Friday, 28th August 1914Day No. 34Calcutta~ After watching awhile the interesting unloading, this morning I strolled up to the Esplanade side of the Maidan & had a good look at the Dhurramtollah Mosque, corner of Dhurramtollah Street & Chowringhee. I had frequently passed it but had not observed it at close quarters. It is a Mohammedan mosque erected during the time Lord Auckland was governor (when that was don’t know) by one of the Native Princes. I then treated myself to a gharry & drove from point to point passing at times through may of the Native Quarters, all a delight, dismissing my “carriage” when back in Chowringhee by Whiteaway Laidlaw & Co’s enormous store, to whose Tea Room I adjourned. A discovery I made a day or two ago. I have mentioned that Calcutta knows no cafes & so far as I know (with one exception, Pelitis) Whiteaways is the only place to obtain a cup of tea. No finer tea I ever have tasted & on enquiring as to where it comes from was informed “Darjeeling”. “If & when” I go there must certainly get some. The afternoon was spent mainly in a little shopping & call at the “Royal” & Mr Quayle’s Office – who by the way has not yet reached India. He should have been here days before us. His Principles were interested to learn that I had seen him in England, & they, not having heard from him, are much concerned that he has been captured passing through Germany to Austria!! His return was booked by the Austrian Lloyd steamer “Gablong” from Trieste where he was journeying to join her just a day or so before war was declared. I called in also at Messrs Martin’s Office (one of the leading firms here) to renew my acquaintance with Bertie Lindsay – for many years a colleague at No 1. North John Street. Had chaffed him over the telephone from the “Royal” that an old friend from England was calling –name not given- & he was of course completely mystified. We had quite a long chat & a smoke despite business hours! Oh! The free & easiness of Office life abroad for Europeans. Coats discarded, shirt sleeves the fashion everywhere, nearly all smoking & the cigarette box to hand on the table desk. Bertie clapped his hands, jabbered Hindustani to a responding “bearer” & in no time I had a refreshing cup of tea placed before me. In all the offices I’ve been in – some half dozen by now –there is the same freedom. I do not wonder at it, all the compensations possible are required here both for the exile and the climate! In the late afternoon I went into the city again (‘tis but 10 minutes from Ship) to make a business call for the Captain & spent some time on the return watching through the railings of the garden surrounding one of the Government Buildings a wrestling bout between two Indians. Both small & slender built but what strength in their lithe limbs! It was astonishing how when one was caught at a disadvantage he would be completely thrown over the head of the other, or lifted off his feet & his body pressed to the ground in the endeavour to gain a point. Each always managed to wriggle away so that honours were easy when I came away. I should have much liked to have seen the finish. Some of the folk hereabouts are great wrestlers I believe. Reaching the Strand Road, the road running parallel to the jetties & crowded out with buffalo carts straining & struggling along, I was hailed from a gharry. Mr. Chief Engineer. He was bound to Howrah Station the other side of the river, on route to Bally to spend the evening with his friend the Manager of the Bally Jute mill & wished me to drive with him as far as the station. Nothing loth I jumped in! We journeyed over the Howrah bridge, spoken of as one of the most remarkable in the world. The Bridge forms a very wide roadway, a continuation of Harrison Road (the busiest street I should say in Calcutta). The making of this Bridge was a great engineering problem, as the quick sand bed of the River prohibited a permanent structure, so it is built on floating barges – a wonderful erection & cost but a few thousands short of a quarter of a million sterling. The Bridge is the only one across the River & it is claimed that the traffic over it is unequalled, a never ending stream of foot passengers & vehicles of every description passing in opposite directions each hour out of the 24, except on a few occasions per week when the Bridge Commissioners close it for a couple of hours at certain states of the tide to permit of the large steamers to pass through. At such times a section of the Bridge in the centre is towed away to make the passages. The innumerable smaller craft can pass under at all states of the tide. Such continuous crowds of people jostling along and lines of carts & carriages hurrying over with their drivers incessantly shouting to clear the way I’ve never seen, and the Bridge is easily one of the sights in Calcutta. The Howrah railway station was another: but as I have already received an invitation to visit the Mills at Bally I leave mentioning this over, as I expect to be at the station again shortly & will deal with it then. Saw Mr. K safely off, and with some difficulty found the gharry (kept waiting for me the hour not being up!!) amongst the many scores of vehicles of sorts drawn up outside the station. Recrossing the bridge I had an excellent opportunity of seeing one of the Bathing Ghats at close quarters – there are many of these bathing places dotted up & down the River banks, though the bathing is not necessarily confined to the Ghats. The few Mills we saw on the river banks when we were first arriving at Calcutta all had steps leading down from their green compounds to the river & people bathing. This bathing always seems to be going on amongst the poorest & the dirtiest in the “holy waters of the Ganges”, though I am afraid the manner of bathing doesn’t signify cleanliness but rather some ceremonial connected with their religion, merely a form, like their praying (in all sorts of public places & at all times) which I can’t think sincere or there would be a lot of sanctity indeed. On the voyage out I had frequently promised my young friend the midshipman, Willy, that I would spend an evening with him at the “Seaman’s Institute”, so accordingly after dinner we “gharried” there – a pleasant two mile drive along that part of the Maidan fronting the river to Hastings. The Institute is in a very pleasant & open situation, almost in the country. Hastings is a good class suburban district & bordering on the far side of the Maidan is a long way from the city. The Institute is well used by our mariners – from Officers to Apprentices – the later particularly being made so welcome, that the boys when they are able to leave their ships gladly flock & meet there night after night. A fine well stocked reading room & writing room, billiard room, a small bar, a gymnasium, draughts, chess, piano & the inevitable gramophone make a splendidly equipped club. In the large room concerts & “singsongs” are held from time to time, sometimes these being arranged by a ship’s company. They are always a success I hear. Whenever there are sufficient ships in port, and teams available, football matches are arranged for Saturday afternoons – the Institute has a ground lent to them for the purpose. This is a very popular event, Winding up- as it always does – with the teams being entertained to tea at the institute. Every Sunday afternoon there is an “Apprentices’ Tea” and there are few cadets on the steamers but what respond to this invitation! Small wonder the Mission is a success & doing such splendid work amongst the younger members of the Ships Company, for it is in the hands of a really “live” man. The Rev. C.A.J. Nibbs, the River Chaplain as he is styled, stands as a friend and a father to them. He is a general favourite with all “who go down to the sea in ships” as I had frequent opportunities of gauging. “Church” is the very last thing “pushed” at the Institute’s habituees & perhaps that is the reason why the Sunday evening service in the little “Queen Mary Chapel” there is so well attended. We had not been in but a few minutes before Mr Nibbs came across to be introduced. He gave me the warmest of welcomes & a cordial invitation to make full use of the Institute during my stay. I hoped to do so, as a change from being afloat, it is a little bit of home, a retreat! We had a long talk. We soon got on common ground. He had had a Curacy one time at Bootle, then a Manchester living, then he call to administer to Sailors came to him. The work greatly appealed as his father is a Navy Commander & all his brothers follow the sea, so he & his wife came out here for 5 years, which is just up but owing to the war difficulties of returning to England and of appointing a successor are prolonging their term. The ground floor of the building forms the Institute proper- the rooms above form the Parson’s House with a separate outside entrance. I had to go & be introduced to the “Memsahib” (Mrs Nibbs) & a very pleasant hour indeed I spent. I was shown all over the house; had to see Mrs Nibbs’ menagerie – a dog, a monkey, a parrot & other birds and a mongoose- and, speaking of these, reminds me that I was more interested in, when sitting in the drawing room, watching the lizards run about the walls! Several of them, & they are encouraged, for the keep the insects down- the flies, the ants, mosquitoes & cockroaches. The ants are the demons – all table legs & meat safe legs stand in small pales of acid to circumvent the ants from reaching the food. They are everywhere in this climb indoors and out. I was taken to see the kitchen at the bottom of the garden. All Indian kitchens are detached & away from the house perhaps it is desirable if only to prevent the Mistress enquiring too closely into things! I heard a lot about Native Cooks & their ways. “Bawatchi” he is called in Hindustani. Instead of one fireplace as we know it (Kitchen I mean, there are no fireplaces in the houses) there are several let into a square table of brickwork, and each of these – quite tiny – are fed with charcoal & are lit just at cooking time. My attention was more particularly given to watching, creeping up the wall the largest cockroach of the many I’ve seen since landing in this wonderful country, & when it was killed with a dexterous tap it was left lying there, Mr Nibbs remarking “don’t bother to move it, there will be no trace of it my morning, the ants will see to that”! Oh this land of creepy crawly things! Conversation at one part of the time turned on the tornado of a few months ago and I was told that, despite the precautions taken, for they saw the storm coming, they had 96 panes of glass broken! I have unconsciously run to length regarding this evenings’ portion of my doings, but my enjoyment of the Institute and the extreme kindness of his Reverence & his wife must be my excuse for dilating somewhat. ~ Willy and I wound up our “night out” by sojourning to Castellazzo’s – a noted Italian confectioners in Chowringhee where we sat for a while on an outside balcony overlooking the maidan spending the time guzzling cakes & beating off the rummiest collection imaginable of flying insects attracted by the electric light & possibly the confectionery. Then to ship. Then to bed.Saturday, August 29th, 1914Day 35~Calcutta~ The individual’s day in these climbs starts early on account of the coolness of the morning, so that by 7a.m. I was out on the racecourse, the far side of the maidan, with my good friend Mr Morris. Today is Race day, a great event, for the native evidently is as keen on having his “bob” on as his English brother resident here. There were many people out watching the horses exercising, & probably trying to pick up the latest “tip”! English ladies out riding were frequently met with – 6 a.m. is a common time for them – but they have opportunities for resting later as owing to the “bite of the sun”, this fierce frizzling fiery sun, the generally remain indoors from 11 to 4p.m. when the direct heat tames somewhat. A tramcar soon ran us back to the ship, just in time for breakfast, to find that our table was graced with a lady, a Norwegian. She is the representative of the Salvation Army & pays a breakfast call it seems each voyage & takes away with her all she can collect. She was very pleasant & vivacious & gave me an interesting account of their work; work done in the face of almost insurmountable difficulties and prejudices. Had a good walk round the market this morning. Its proper name is the “Sir Stuart Hogg Market” but is spoken of by everybody as the “New Market”, possibly on account of its rebuilding (just now finishing the last corner) following a very disastrous fire. I remember reading about this in the English papers many months ago & little then did I think that I should see it! At the entrance the Visitor is assailed by Coolies who all clamour for the honour of attending on the Sahib or the Memsahib to follow them round & carry their purchases which are made at the various stalls. Instances, a lady will do all her housekeeping shopping here (taking the goods away with her, not the custom here to deliver them) buying, say, Butchers meat, groceries, vegetables, fish, fruit, flowers, & more likely than not, poultry – it being so cheap here, household sundries, cottons &c. &c.; & thus may visit a dozen or more stalls walking a considerable distance too in the process for the market covers a great area. Naturally she cannot carry such multitudinous purchases around with her, so the coolie with his head basket is an institution; engaging him is not by any means a tax on the articles bought, as, when ultimately he deposits his load in his employer’s gharry he is rewarded according to by-law, so:- 10 minutes = 6 pie (half penny) ½ hour = 1 anna (1-penny) 1 hour = 2 annas (2 pence) Is there anywhere where labour is so cheap and such super abundance of labour too! (the rate of pay for the collie working the ships – the dock labourer – is but 6 to 8 annas a day if I have not mentioned this before.) But as to the market itself. Here is colour if you like right at the entrance, at the fruit stalls. Such a luscious variety, then, passing on, arcade after arcade is traversed where, excepting a piano & an elephant, almost every conceivable article imaginable can be purchased. Novelties & curios; Indian silks; shantungs; lace of all kinds – a particular local variety called “chicon work” always being predominantly displayed; stacks upon stacks of sari (this is the dress of the native women - & men sometimes – one piece cotton garment with stamped pattern hem) & draperies; native household utensils; then cocoa – nuts, in their scrubbers and without; then on to the meat section, very extensive; poultry, fouls, ducks, pigeons either live or dead; then confectionery (pass on quick!) sweets & toffee (mainly English); tea & picture postcards; rice & grains and spices for curry making; then vegetables and fruit again, and it was here that I noticed text- like little labels of different wordings thanking God for the sweet fruit and pasted on each melon – a heaped stack of them – as an extra inducement evidently to buy them!!! Although I’ve got a label as a souvenir I did not buy the melon, I stole the label instead as I stood there!

Change being difficult to obtain, there are, at the entrances, money changing stalls, where, behind brass bars, stout Hindoos squat before little mounds of the various coins laid in rows (a very small charge is made, a pie or two, and these are twelve to the penny) and from all accounts it is here that the unwary are liable to be landed with spurious coin! I might here state that the coinage of India is:-Silver Rupee the equivalent in our money to 1s 4d ½ Rupee “ 8d ¼ Rupee “ 4d 2 Anna piece “ 2dNickel One Anna one pennyCopper Half Anna half penny Quarter Anna called “pice” farthing 1/12 of Anna “ “pie” 12 to the penny. Then there is a “profusity” of paper money, 5, 10, 50, 100, Rupees & higher amounts still. Accounts are kept in Rupees, Annas, Pie; R.A.P. the equivalent of out £. s. d. The coins are round except the Anna (nickel) &, that is this shape & size.

I have been in the market every day but did not have a really good look round until this morning. I enjoyed it. ~ Just round the corner in Chowringhee is the Indian Museum and as I have been told not to miss this on any account I went in arriving simultaneously with the daily deluge. Just got to shelter in the nick of time & right glad I was. What a rain storm! One is tempted to say off-hand that museums are all alike, though this is different. It has a style of its own & the scheme of things is good. The exhibits are distinctly interesting. The room of antiquities, and, my word, very real antiquities! ; the section devoted to products of the Country with samples of native craft work drawn from all parts of India; & the room containing specimens of India’s myriad “crawlers” appealed to me most; for the rest, one’s examination was but of a cursory order. I appeared to be the only European there at the time, the many others visiting being natives – family parties, evidently from the country or the villages for their delight and wonderment at seeing an electric lift going up & down was great. The native is very child-like in his pleasures & hey waited in crowds to descend to the next floor per lift for the sake of the experience – each journey made amidst screams of laughter. Small mater to record probably, but I mentioned it as it amused me so. ‘Twas funny. The museum is very extensive & makes a fine addition to that street of fine buildings, Chowringhee. During the afternoon I went out to the suburbs & paid a visit to the Zoological Gardens, one of the recognised sights, & the Sunday Evening resort of English Society when the Military Band plays, the native being shut out then by virtue of the increased price of admission – one rupee. When I left the Tram I skirted the Race-Course for about half a mile. The races were in full swing & such a gathering of conveyances outside was a wonder – they were an outstanding collection both by their numbers & their variety. Another half mile up a well shaded lane with a stop to look at the dinghys and barges on “Tolley’s Nullah”, a creek tributary of the Hooghly, as I crossed over brought me to the Gardens entrance at Alipur (pronounced Ally- poor). I spent a very enjoyable two hours; plenty of interest, the grounds are beautiful & there is a splendid collection of animals. A note over the tiger cage – a man eater – claimed that this beauty had had two hundred victims. The Zoo is well in the suburbs, quite country in fact, so that when I left there it was an opportunity not to miss to go back to Calcutta through some of the villages & see the home quarters proper of the natives. Next to the Zoological Gardens is Belvedere House standing in very extensive grounds; I just went inside the gateway & stood on the lawn to size it all up. Splendid! Belvedere was the Residence of the Lieutenant – governor of Bengal but, as I have explained in the notes of a previous day, His Excellency now resides at government House. Farther along I passed the Maharajah of Cooch Behar’s House a fine place – and, later on, another fine Mansion, Hastings House. This was the Country seat of Warren Hastings when he was Governor General of the Fort here (Fort Williams) in 1774. There are other interesting associations, for it was just hereabouts that Thackeray the Novelist lived when a child. I passed the house in which he lived at Alipur, the thoroughfare is called Thackeray Road. He was born in Calcutta. Before I ultimately struck the trams on the Kalighat to Calcutta route my wanderings had taken me through many side lanes, & villages, with odd collections of native houses – if such they can be called, for in the main they are the most miserable of structures. Shed like huts, generally roofed with bamboo thatch, the walls either of bamboo lattice work with cloth (sometimes) hung inside, or hard baked mud – only very occasionally are bricks used for these dwellings & then only for a foundation. In front of all these wretched shacks there invariably runs an open dirty drain. Somewhere on every hut cakes of cow dung are plastered to dry in the sun when it is used as fuel. It is almost incredibly that human beings live their whole life in such rude dwellings, the most pitiable of shelters, and as for internal comforts so far as I could see there were none (only sometimes a trestle bed – the native as a rule sleeps on the earthen floor. - & a few cooking dishes) & owing to the extreme poverty the great majority of the natives of this India with all its wealth live under such conditions. Fortunate indeed for them that they require such a trifling wardrobe & can exist, as they do, on such little rice and grain. How these terrible Indian famines must polish the people off. Seeing all this, & stopping to think, who dares to state that England in India hasn’t got a colossal undertaking on hand. There can be no question but that we are there for the good of the people & though the difficulties of the work must be great yet we are successfully, even though slowly, accomplishing it. But, reverting to the poor condition of the Native. Possibly the coolies in the particular suburbs I was in this afternoon are better off than most, as work is very plentiful in Calcutta. At any rate the demeanour of all the peoples I met did not betoken misery & its companions, there was no sullenness or dispiritedness but a happy manner throughout. I took many photographs, the native children all seemed pleased that I was doing so & would pose splendidly, but the attention of the natives crowding round one & all jabbering at once were oftentimes embarrassing. At one place a coolie followed me “take photo baby sahib”? While waiting a moment for him (he didn’t come back) I marshalled some boys in a row, and in an unguarded moment gave them some pice for their trouble. What a scene! How others crowded round me for their share! all fighting to get near me, holding their hands out, laughing & shouting “boxes”, “boxes”, “boxes”, (a corruption of “backsheesh”). The Village was “up” & I had to beat a very ignominious retreat. I elbowed my way through the mass of brown bodies & “hopped it”, outpacing my persistent bodyguard as they pursued me to the tram at the end of the road, one most fortunately coming along just in time. It would have made a capital cinematograph picture!! At almost every collection of few huts, and in-between places besides, there is a large pond spoken of as the “tank”. These are very frequent & form the wash place common to all, children or women are busy there washing the brass bowls, which shine like burnished gold after rubbing with the mud, or the earthenware “chatties”; the tanks are used for bathing (they are good sized lakes you know) and the native washerman, the laundryman, the “dhobie” as he is called, is struggling through piles of weekly wash. There is more strong language used over this individual than anyone else on earth I should think, to all of which he is bland & imperturbable, and after seeing their performance I can well believe all the stories I’ve heard of the treatment of clothes, returned with heart breaking regularity minus buttons & always holes & rents. The only consolation is that washing is cheap, very cheap. I had a pile of laundry back this morning & my experience is the same as others; references to the dhobie & his ways have been made to me by every person I’ve met. No soap is used, the clothes are soused in the lake, rubbed in the mud, slapped & slapped again on rocks & stones! , rinsed through, then laid out & the sun does the rest in no time. The washing is done. Oh yes, the dhobie-wallah is an institution without a doubt. I ought to mention that today I definitely decided that I would not go to Darjeeling. My going there has been under great consideration but owing to the rains still keeping on, & Darjeeling is getting a tremendous shore tide the daily rain returns in the Morning Papers, the prospect of living in clouds for an undue proportion of the time at an altitude of nearly 8000 feet does not appeal. I have discussed it with everybody, some say “chance it” – the majority are against it, & talking it over with Mr. Steenstrand when at the “Royal” this morning I told him I had decided not to go – he thought it a wise decision – but that I had settled on Puri – he thought that a very wise decision & called Meadows in the discuss it, he having been there. Puri is on the coast, the house of the famous Juggernaut Car, & I reckon there to see something of the India of the story books. All being well, I go there on Wednesday night next – 17 hours journey. Sunday, August 30th, 1914.Day 36~Calcutta~ The arrangements made for me today was that I was to have a Motor run into the Country with Mr. Steenstrand, returning to his chambers for breakfast. Sunday morning breakfast in Calcutta by the way is at 12.30 – this is common to all the Europeans I believe. Accordingly Steenstrand Sahib arrived with the Royal Insurance Co’s Motor Car at the ship at 9 a.m. to take me the promised trip. After Captain W.O.T. had hospitably entertained Mr. S. & suitably toasted this land of chronic thirst (!) we set out. The drive to the outskirts of the City was made interesting by passing through many of the native bazaars. What traffic & what multitudes of people everywhere! Sunday in Calcutta, so far as the Native is concerned, is the same as any other day in the week. Except amongst Europeans everyday life and work goes on, the native knows not Sunday as different. We were bound for Barrackpore & soon reached the Grand Trunk Road. This is something like a road, very wide & straight, & runs for over 1000 miles to Delhi & Bombay. The road is lined with monster trees planted for the purpose of protecting marching troops from the sun, the road originally being a military one. The branches of these lofty trees from each side met and mingled overhead, it was a vault of foliage, and, ahead, always looked like an arch of trees that we never caught up to. Something like an avenue! Ample opportunities offered to see the rice or paddy (the greenest of greens) growing in the swamps; & jute as well, this very tall. Many parts of the Country passed were uncultivated – virgin forest, jungle, even at side of roadway. On the way we passed Barrackpore Park containing a fine Mansion which until recently was the Viceroy’s Country residence. There is not much I think to see at Barrackpore, but one thing of interest in connection with it is that the Indian Mutiny first broke out here. Time did not permit of exploring the place – we merely adjourned to an hotel (of sorts) and, after our arduous morning (!) suitably refreshed ourselves, sitting under the verandah bordering on the garden & obtaining a nice draught caused by the wafting of bamboo fans. This was the first punkah I has seen working, as in Calcutta electric fans have displaced this old time system of freshening the air. The poor old “punkah–wallah” who squatted on the edge of the verandah mechanically pulled up & down the cord which moved the hanging fans to & fro. Squeak, squeak, squeak! Once he stopped, & he was at once yapped at, & the poor old devil started again. The monotony of it for him, expected, as he is, to go on for hours! Half past midday saw us back in Calcutta & duly seated round the Steenstrand table for this peculiar feature, mid-day breakfast. It was a semi-dinner really; several Indian dishes on the menu, prepared, as I took it, on my account as such were under discussion when I was here few days ago. An after-meal smoke on the high-up verandah overlooking the City, & waiting for the rain to cease - a flood of floods this time – when I left, as Sunday afternoon is a recognised siesta time so I adjourned to the ship to do likewise. Another fierce cloud burst in the evening prevented my going to the Cathedral & brought a disappointment for it may not be opportune again before we sail. However, when the rain was over, Mr. Engineer Matthews & I still of the opinion that we were in need of spiritual comfort found we could get to the Seaman’s Mission in time for service so we hied us to a gharry. Just outside the jetty Mr. Matthews stepped on a gutter grid which collapsed, he slipping down a drain nearly thigh deep & lay in the thick mud. He was much shaken but not seriously hurt. A clean white suit for the occasion too! He was a hero, for he went to Church notwithstanding that he was a striking study in black & white! The service was enjoyable &, when over, some thirty of the congregation adjourned to the Reading Room & smoked to their hearts content & partook of the Mission’s hospitality to the tune of lemonade or pop. Conversation was brisk & many stories were told, but the Lay Reader (a worthy gentleman) related an experience which interested me most. This, by the way, was not a “story”! Reaching his home two nights ago in the late evening & standing on the step for a moment something unusual caught his eye round the door verandah. A snake! & when killed with his cane measured just short of 6 feet. And this mind you bordering on a big city. Oh! Who wouldn’t call this a delightfully ideal land for a residence? A late drive back to the ship along the Maidan in the refreshing cool of the night was a delight.Monday, August 31st, 1914.Day 37~Calcutta~ An official visit to the Agents - Messrs Turner Morrison - to whom I had a cordial introduction from Messrs Brocklebank, and a drive round with Captain Tyers, making numerous calls & finishing up at his Club for Tiffin filled in both morning & a portion of the afternoon ere we arrived aboard. After afternoon Tea I strolled along the jetty to the “Dalblair”, a few hundred yards away, to pay a promised visit to her Captain. Dinner over the Chief Officer & self accompanied the Chief Engineer on a visit to his friend, the Manager of Ballyghat Jute Mills. We had a pleasant four mile gharry drive to the mill & were warmly welcomed. His living rooms are situate on the 2nd storey of the house, very lofty rooms, electric fans whizzing below the ceiling (very necessary (!)) marble floors, all rooms opening to a verandah overlooking a well kept garden, and we spent a very convivial two hours there. I made a few attempts to catch lizards darting up & down the walls after flies &c. &c. but the little beggars were too alert & would be off like a lightning flash. I am told if you catch them they cast their tail leaving it in your hand as they wriggle off. ~ Driving so much about as I have done today have had much opportunity to take further observations of the native & his ways. What a medley of life & scenes everywhere. About the streets one frequently comes across native workmen squatting on their heels on some ledge of a building, or huddled close to the wall, plying their trade. Instance; cobblers – soleing clients while they wait, umbrella menders, and barbers are met with at many corners operating on their victim in the open, in full view of the street, shaving chin, head & arms and following it up with cleaning ears! Nothing private anywhere. I was impressed with this on Saturday in the villages – the shops & the living rooms all open to the passers by. I watched with interest a tailor with his sewing machine; a tinsmith busy mending & making; a jeweller cunningly working into shape a silver necklace; a provision dealer busy with his bags of grain & rice; a money changer & money lender, fat & prosperous looking, seated beside a large safe caged behind iron bars; shops selling mineral waters & cakes; and a confectioner of sorts with his assistants busy preparing his wares, frying them in the shop, & rapidly turning them out – messy sticky concoctions – on the boards, to the enjoyment of the swarm of wasps & flies – all sorts, ordinary ones & loathsome ones, big fellows & little fellows. ~Tuesday, September 1st, 1914.Day 38~Calcutta~ Little of moment to record today as did not go ashore this morning Bertie Lindsay was to have come & I had Tiffin aboard but he did not arrive until an hour after, business detained him so he fed in town. I drove back with him to his Office for company’s sake. Frank Dod dined aboard with me this evening & wished me to journey to his rooms afterwards but I postponed it and, instead, we leisurely drove round the Maidan for an hour getting some evening air.Wednesday, September 2nd, 1914.Day 39~Calcutta~ Have felt very far from well the last two days. Yesterday particularly so, but I did not mention it to anyone. Late last evening, however, it became apparent to them aboard that I was ill, & as I did not improve during the night, at 6 o’clock this morning the doctor was brought to see me. Worsening, I was taken to Hospital in the afternoon & right glad was I to get between the sheets in a comfy bed with a large electric fan controllable at will directly overhead. ~ The “plans of mice & men gang aft agley” for this is the day I should have gone to Puri!!!Thursday, September 3rdToTuesday, Sept 8th, 1914.Days No. 40 to 45~Calcutta~ There are more fitting & pleasanter things to record in this diary than one’s indisposition, so my doings for these days can be disposed of by merely referring to them as being spent in the Presidency General Hospital, Calcutta, a palace in the suburbs. ~ At the same time it may not be without interest to say a word or two about this hospital in a Foreign Land. It stands away on the far side of the Maidan, a very open situation, and in extensive grounds. The wards are without windows and have an open doorway both sides of the bed leading on to a verandah – rooms very lofty, plenty of fans and a fine marble floor. Where I was, was almost an aviary – the birds fly in & hop about the floor in numbers especially at meal times; one of the kinds, “minors” they are known as being very pretty & about as large as an English starling. The hospital is modern & splendidly equipped & managed, & yet it has a few funny features as it struck me. Morning & evening a newspaper lad wanders in to sell his papers; each day a native comes round carrying a miniature shop almost & selling extra tuck such as cocoa, chocolate, tinned goods (salmon & fruit & the like) biscuits, cigarettes, soap &c &c, and a rare good trade he does – which shows that many patients like a little variety of the official dietary scale! A wizened old coolie too wanders in each morning wanting to clean your boots, this I suppose in case you should be leaving that day. He is a “card” & always expects to receive the odd boot when a man has had his leg amputated!! Another novel idea – patients as they are convalescing are permitted to go out for an hour or so! Towards the end of my stay I was allowed out at 4o’c’ for a drive but “be sure & be back by 7”. I was, with a minute to spare! As for visiting days & hours, there are no restrictions whatever – it’s come & go as you please evidently, and stay as long as you like. Almost every person I had met (the news soon got round seemingly) kindly came to see me, & what with the Mission folk, & those from the ship, I had no lack of visitors daily. You may smoke at all times – your visitors too! ~ One evening there was an eclipse of the Moon, and taking advantage of the Nurses being out of the Ward I sneaked out of bed on to the verandah just to have a peep & pop back again before their ladyships returned. It was a glorious night & I had a good view, the moon being almost obscured. An eclipse of the Moon I am informed is the occasion of a great Hindu festival. One could hear from the Hospital the blowing of horns & beating of tom – toms by the natives – a continuous din &anything but musical, but this is part of the celebration. Another part is the bathing in the River, the belief being that whatever they have done wrong is all wiped out if they only dip in the Ganges while the eclipse is on. Therefore, I understand the river bank will be well nigh impassable on this night with prospective bathers, the women being in tremendous majority – the sinners!

Wednesday, September 9th, 1914Day No. 46~Calcutta~ To-day I quitted the Hospital – left at my own request. I had been cooped up for 8 days there & felt that I was reasonably fit to depart, especially seeing that we are due to sail on Saturday, if the Government don’t take us for Transport purposes! Whilst I have been in retirement the “Manipur” has moved, for loading purposes, from the jetty down the River to the Dock at Kidderpore (distance, say, Liverpool Landing Stage to Gladstone Dock) so, to Kidderpore I drove & spent an easy day aboard. The Seaman’s parson here, the Rev. Mr. Nibbs (he is really a fine sort – been tremendously kind to me – came & had many a yarn with me in the Hospital,) was in the Ward this a.m. & learning that I was leaving there today would have me dine with them tonight, “Mrs Nibbs was having a light dinner which would just suit a man out of Hospital &c. &c” I went and spent a most pleasant quiet evening at their House – awfully decent people – enjoyed looking at their bric-a-brac & odd collection of metal curios picked up by Mrs Nibbs in the Bazaars both in Calcutta & other parts of India they’ve visited. It was mentioned during the evening that the Church Mr N. was Curate at in Bootle was built by the Harrison family & they were both greatly interested to learn of that other Church built by the same family.

Thursday, September 10th, 1914Day No. 47.~Calcutta~ This morning’s Newspaper contained an announcement that the “Manipur” (amongst others) was not required by the Government as a Transport, thus disposing of the question as to our being commandeered, as first they wanted the ship then they didn’t, and opinions were changing daily on it. The Authorities have been playing shuttlecock with the matter seemingly ever since we arrived but now any doubts of our sailing on Saturday next are removed as loading will be completed tomorrow. I drove into Calcutta with the Captain during the morning – he dropped me at the “Royal” where I spent a goodly portion of the day leisurely writing my mail under circumstances pleasant, the fan overhead working up a delightful breeze. I found young Wand’s had arrived there whilst I was laid up – he is the latest recruit from Liverpool Office. Mr Quale by the way came out on the same P&O steamer, & has a great experience to recount about missing the train at Lime Street which saved he & his wife being caught on the Continent when war was declared two days afterwards. Having arranged to spend the evening with Dod, waited until he was free from business & then drove together round some of the Bazaars he assisting me with my sundry shoppings – it takes a long time to buy a thing here owing to the bargaining, for the Native piles it on to begin with hoping to catch the unwary, so it was dark by the time we fetched up at Dod’s rooms. Just Managed to squeeze into some dress clothes he lent me (most absolutely imperative here that Europeans dress for dinner) when dinner was ready. There are four other gentlemen boarders at these diggings – duly introduced at tables & spent a very chatty evening. Ultimately Dod accompanied me to Kidderpore.Friday, September 11th, 1914Day No. 48Calcutta~ The Captain’s gharry arrived at the Ship earlier this morning so I drove up to the City with him calling at the “Royal” & bade them all farewell. Called on Bertie Lindsay also. Later, picking up the Captain as arranged, found that we are not sailing tomorrow after all! Notwithstanding that the Indian Government had previously definitely intimated that we would not be required as a Transport they are now once again in a state of indecision regarding us and we are to wait until Monday. The fact that we are now a full ship and will have to unload 16000 tons of cargo if they want us is a trifle evidently that causes them no concern! We adjourned to Pelitis (while the skipper’s gharry is away changing horses) as is our usual custom for refreshments- something with ice in it. A great feature of Indian living is that self same ice. Life would be less bearable here but for it. Ice is placed on the tables everywhere just in the same sense as salt or sugar is at home, it could scarcely be dispensed with. We were having an afternoon party aboard, and whilst at Pelitis the Captain proved that he knew very well indeed how to provide cakes & chocolates! A nurse at the Hospital (Nurse Murphy, friend of Captain Tyers’ great friends here, the Julls) had sent a “bearer” down this morning with a note saying that she had a lady friend just arrived in Calcutta from the Central Provinces who had never seen a ship! and might she bring her down. Certainly, by all means, was the answer & come to afternoon tea. At the Captains request I took his gharry up to the Hospital for the two ladies & brought them aboard. We were a party of five on the Bridge Deck – Miss Jull, whom Captain Tyers had asked to come & take charge of the tea-pot, Nurse & her friend, the Captain, and this scribe, and an entertaining two hours soon went when the lady who had never seen a ship departed to join friends who were taking her to some concert, or some such, in the City. The Captain invited the two ladies to accompany us to the Theatre, but I was compelled to be excused & as soon as they had gone I straightaway went to bed – 6.30 p.m.- Early hours! Turning over a new leaf!!!Saturday, September 12th, 1914.Day No. 49~Calcutta ~ I begin today by starting with yesterday which isn’t Irish (!) even if it sounds so. ~ I was horribly “off” yesterday & when calling at the Hospital in the afternoon for the Captain’s guests I first looked in to pay my respects to the Sister – Sister Helena Maria – (a member of that community, or Order, the Clewer Sisters, Oxford, England) a middle-aged lady, in charge of the Ward & of whose kindness to me I am left with pleasant memories. Incidentally, I did not see her, but the Nurse I was speaking to her asked me into a room & took my temperature (!). She told me I had got Fever – I knew it well, as I told her, for I felt it – oh yes! – but I kept my own council until the afternoon party was over when I slipped to bed. Shortly afterwards Mr. Quayle came down from Calcutta to see me & surprised of course to find me abed & knocked out so. I entertained him as well as I was able but I was poor company for the fever was determined to be top dog. Had a real bad night – Mr Morris was very kindly concerned about me & frequently looked in my stateroom during the night, & when the Doctor came aboard about 7 o’c’ this morning to certify the Crew the Captain brought him to see me first. ~ Result – ordered off to Hospital at once, most rotten rotten luck, remarking that I ran a great rick of being left behind as we are sailing on Monday. I was therefore carted back to Hospital & by a concession (for I should have gone by rule to another ward) I got in the same ward & the same bed I had vacated but three days ago!! and there’s no moe to say than this for this days doings, and there’s no more to say also for the next days doings;- i.e.-Sunday Sept 13th. 1914Day No. 50~ ~ than that I spent it in the Presidency General Hospital and that I had a string of visitors during the day.Monday, September 14th, 1914.Day No. 51~Calcutta~ They have a “way with them” here of getting temperatures down, so, feeling better I desired to leave the Hospital first thing this morning. I pressed for this & in consequence got away from there by 10 a.m., armed with a prescription & an injunction to take 10 grains of quinine every night until I get to the Mediterranean! ~ This being my last day in India I went first of all into the City and, by aid of the gharry, made a round of calls & said farewell finally. Did some final shopping also, stayed up town for Tiffin & then, in the afternoon, drove back to Kidderpore. The days I had been laid low had knocked my sightseeing plans considerably & as opportunity had not offered to visit the Fort I took advantage of my last drive over the maidan of going through it. Fort William is the most extensive fortress in India & was commenced, so I learnt, in 1757 & took 16 years to build. It is almost octagon in shape & is surrounded by a wide moat which can be filled by a sluice from the Hooghly. We went in by the Chowringhee Gate, crossed the drawbridge, with cannon on the top wall commanding it, and drove through quite a tunnel which, in itself, showed the thickness of the outer walls & ramparts. As we entered a sentry stepped out of his box & passed us forward. The inside may be described as a miniature town; we drove up & down finely wooded streets containing barracks, stores, stables, workshops, arsenals & armouries; across a Square or two with fine open spaces bordering them then down an Avenue with more barracks and leading to the Garrison Church – St. Peters – which I did not get out to inspect though it is said to be the finest Garrison Church in India. Soldiers, both English & native, were occasionally in evidence but the general impression – everything being so quiet & peaceful – was not at all like one’s idea of a fort. The Wireless Station is here too & the one o’clock Time Bell. We must have travelled a couple of miles or so inside, ere we left by the Riverside Gate opening on to the far side of the Maidan. I have referred so frequently to the Maidan (pronounced My-dan) that I ought to tell you something about it. It is an open park space, originally jungle, the clearance of which was commenced when the building of the Fort was started in 1757. It is intersected with walks & drives; two or three very wide & finely kept roads run across it & the main tram line to Kidderpore runs over it. As a set off to the days fierce sun the elite of Calcutta turn out in force on it in the evenings for their walk or drive. There are but two small portions laid out as gardens – the Eden Gardens (which I have previously detailed) & the Curzon Gardens, both of these adjacent to Government House). All the rest of this very extensive area is flat grass land, which, thanks to the heavy dew, is always green as are the trees which nobly line all the roads on it. Parts of it are used for recreation, as cricket, football (games of which I have often watched the natives playing, they kick with their bare feet!) golf – two courses - , lawn tennis. At one end is the Race course. On the opposite side is the Fort, & on acres & acres of the land in-between flocks of goats & cattle are brought daily to graze. What I should call a drawback to it all is that the deadliest snake in all India, the krait, is found here, and it is certainly unwise to wander in the grass at night-time without a light – so please keep to the paths! The krait is quite a small snake but its bite is far more poisonous than the Cobra I am told. This glorious open space covers an astonishing area. It runs along the River side, with a wide esplanade, & to give you some idea of its length – it is quite the distance from New Brighton Ferry to Seacombe Ferry and, at its widest part extends as far back from the Hooghly as does Wallasey Church from the River Mersey, or nearly so. On the City side it is bounded by Chowringhee – this is a fine modern road worthy of any town. The best Hotels, best shops (& these are almost all European), theatres, Indian Museum & the leading clubs are all to be found there. The buildings in Chowringhee are of course on one side of the road only, the other side is the open field – no railings no fence – the Maidan. The Cathedral stands on the far away corner & it is this end which is the fashionable part of Calcutta. A great feature of the Maidan is the fine Statuary there. Numerous memorials erected to those who have made modern history in India, such as Viceroys, Governors, famous Generals &c. &c., and in some cases even statues of people presently living. Amongst the earlier ones stands out prominently the Ochterloney Monument (Sir David Ochterloney – a great fighter & statesman) a column 165 feet high; also the Gwalior Monument (to commemorate those who fell in that campaign), a circular marble faced tower with the top of metal, made from captured guns. It is commonly known & always referred to as the “Pepper Pot”. Amongst others there are statues of Sir James Outram; Marquess of Dufferin; Lord Bentinck; Lord Roberts; the present Viceroy Lord Hardinge; the last Viceroy Lord Curzon & the Earl of Mayo and when I was taking a photograph of this last a coolie carrying a load of baskets on his pole would stand in front firmly convinced it was he I wished to take. The statue of Queen Victoria is guarded night & day, as with the sedition which is rife in Bengal – and Calcutta is the seat of it – the authorities fear the Statue might be defaced and the effect on the native mind would be bad as superstition is tremendously prevalent amongst them. The native revered the queen greatly they think of her still as their Great Mother, & most of them have cheap gaudy coloured pictures of her; I saw lots of them in their huts, houses, shops – most hideous productions, a “printed in Germany” series no doubt! ~ But to hark back to the doings of the day. I duly reached the Dock, duly got aboard, & nothing short of astounded to learn that we are not sailing to-day after all!!! First thing this morning it seems a Government message was received instructing that the ship be still held back. (Will they ever make up their minds was the feeling!) As a result of this the Captain at once had a telephone message sent through to the Hospital in order to prevent my leaving there but the Doctor replied that I had driven away only 10 minutes before. When I heard of this later wasn’t I just glad I had got clear! However- all is settled now, for the Captain arrived aboard immediately after me bringing word that the Government finally & definitely release us. Word was received too late to complete arrangements to sail today, so all is fixed for tomorrow – tug-boat & pilot engaged & all the rest of it. Our passengers (the few we are taking) came aboard during the afternoon so our party at dinner tonight filled up the table.Tuesday, September 15th, 1914Day No. 52~Calcutta~ Orders went forth that everybody was to be on the ship by 2 o’clock sharp, when we leave the berth – Homeward bound! Having said my final farewells – after the many false alarms – I was not disposed to go up to Calcutta again; for one thing my foot was paining greatly, I had got a bad mosquito bite in Hospital & it was looking a shade poisonous, so I rested aboard. As I came on deck after Tiffin the Tug was just coming alongside & preparations were made for “off”! The Captain though had not come down from Calcutta, so perforce we had to wait. An hour went by. A little after that the Dockmaster came along & wished us to move as he had already disposed of our berth. The position was explained to him; still, as the steamer for our berth was then making her way up to it he could but suggest that we moved to the centre of the Dock & moored fore & aft to two buoys there. We had scarcely got moored in our new position when the Captain arrived. We were not to sail!!! Word had just been received in Calcutta that the German light cruiser “Emden” had made a flying raid into the Bay of Bengal & had captured 6 outward bound ships, sinking 5 of them, to wit, Indus Killin Lovat Diplomat & Trabboch Transferring the crews of these steamers to the “Kabinga” & then sending her back to Calcutta. Consequently the Port had been closed – it was not safe to sail. Sensation of Sensations! What a stroke of luck we had had! We all felt that the Government had been “playing with us” through being so very undecided about our sailing these last few days (first that we were to go & then that we were not) keeping everyone on tenterhooks so, & now we saw that had they not have been so full of indecision, and we had sailed according to programme, “Mr Emden” undoubtedly would have claimed another victim; US; the S S Manipur. We were stunned with the news. Personally I felt knocked out thinking about the “Diplomat”, she was such a bonny ship – a fine modern vessel. She lay almost by us in the Dock and being a Liverpool ship, one of Harrisons, I had two or three times thought of going aboard, but somehow never managed it. We have had an impressive day!! ~Wednesday, September 16th, 1914Day No. 53.~Calcutta~When out dining one evening I had met Mr. Hill, Civil Engineer & the City Surveyor & I took advantage this morning of his invitation to show me some of the City by accompanying him on his rounds. I was up in Chowringhee by 9 o’c’ & his Motor was there waiting for me just as I stepped out of the Kidderpore Tram. I heard it once mentioned that Calcutta is a city of palaces in front & pig-stys behind and, after my mornings ride, I am somewhat disposed to agree that there is something in it. To reach a particular suburb where Mr. Hill has got his pet scheme in hand (a large pumping Station in course of erection in connection with an extensive sewerage plan) we passed through several native quarters of narrow streets & houses (or huts rather) of very gimcrack appearance but they seemed quite a setting to the wonderful medley of life & scenes & squalor everywhere. The Calcutta Authorities are alive to all these squalid places & great improvements are in hand. Demolition is steadily going on, & new & very wide streets are being made through the crowded quarters; we passed through one of these districts made new & presentable, the work of Mr. Hill, & I came to the conclusion that the City of Calcutta are fortunate at having such a worthy & able Civil Engineer at their command. We were some time at the pumping station, many matters, inside & out, demanding Mr. Hill’s attention. I must say one word about it – it is a three storied building presently being roofed. The staircases not yet built I climbed up the frail looking ladders to the flat roof to be shown “something I had never seen before.” I agreed that I hadn’t. Some 80 women & children were engaged each side of the roof hammering down the newly laid concrete with wooden mallets. They were crouched down at their work in that peculiarly squatting position they all have here, many were working under umbrellas (the day WAS a scoicher, and I knew it!!) & several had babies laying in their laps, tiny naked lumps of brown humanity some but very few weeks old. It struck me as being hard for these coolie women to go about their work & to have to nurse their little mites at the same time as they do. We were up in the district known as Mackintollah and near to the Jain Temple, which I particularly wished to see, so that a few minutes drive brought us there. The Temple was built by Rai Budree Das Bahadur, a Calcutta native merchant, & it is the richest & most gorgeous place of worship in Calcutta, and, of its kind, is said to be the most magnificent in India. It is mainly of white marble chiselled most delicately in lace design & everywhere ornamented with wonderful mosaics – it is certainly exquisite even though in many places bordering on the tawdry. Before I was allowed to go up the Temple steps I had to leave my boots outside, being provided with slippers, & I certainly hoped that my boots would not be pinched! Being a heathen I was not permitted to enter the “all-important” part of the Temple (that containing their sacred image, the Jain god) but was allowed to look through the glass doors. The inside colouring was a surprise, the floor tiles & part of the walls were of mirrored glass reflecting the rich mosaic of marble & coloured glass of the walls & columns, all gleaming & glistening, & a monster glass chandelier spread itself over the greater part of the room. The whole effect was very striking, so much so – colour upon colour, vivid & glaring – that I really feel lost at trying to give you an adequate idea of my impressions. The grounds are very fine too, & after a look at the “sacred fish” in the lake, tame fat fellows, fed by every visiting native, and after I had signed (of course!) the Visitors book we took our departure. I also very particularly wished to see the Nimtollah Burning Ghat – the cremating ground of the Hindoo – so we journeyed along to it down at the riverside. A cremation was in progress; the body was in the heart of a stack of logs placed criss-cross & all furiously ablaze. The dead person’s legs were protruding & sizzling so needless to say I stood windward of the smoke! There had been several burnings that morning judging by the smouldering ashes in 2 or 3 places. All most most interesting. On our way to the Burning Ghat (pronounced got) we passed a beggar leading a cow. It had a horn protruding from the centre of its forehead- some freak of nature, (that is, if it wasn’t a fake). This Cow is therefore to the native mind a thrice sacred one and, as such, the beggar (mendicant would be the proper word wouldn’t it?) makes a good thing out of it – the native parting his pice very freely with the idea that he is facilitating his passage to his fathers when he quits this life. Returning Citywards we passed the Royal Mint. A very fine building indeed but in miserably poor surroundings. I saw somewhere in a pamphlet (and made a note of it) that the central portico is a copy of the Temple of Minerva at Athens. The Mint was started in 1824, took six years to build, & is the largest Mint in the world. It was under guard of course – (military). We passed Malik’s Ghat shortly after, one of the chief Bathing places. I was back aboard by Tiffin time & remained all day but in the evening I dined at Mrs. Julls. Their house is but a nice short drive from the ship, through semi-country; down one of the lines bananas were growing in great profusion. Over dinner, & afterwards, conversation, for my benefit, turned on Indian customs & commodities, the mystery of curry making, & so on & so forth. We had a little music and, altogether, a most pleasant evening.Thursday, September 17th, 1914Day No. 54~Calcutta~A quiet day aboard, nursing foot really, but journeyed with my Mail up to Calcutta to the G.P.O. looking in at the “Royal” for a few minutes. As I got out of the Car in Chowringhee was astonished to find everybody looking skywards. I never saw such throngs qualifying for a crick in the neck. Looking for what? It was obvious that one half did not know what the other half were concerned about. I was one of the “didn’t knows”. The next day’s “Statesman” gave the reason.

Friday, Sept. 18th 1914Day No. 55~ Thanks to the poisoned foot spent the whole day aboard. I arranged my deck chair under the awning near to the ship’s rail & sat for hours idly watching the life of the Dock. Barges by scores were coming up to our part of the dock (to load & unload cargo from adjacent steamers) & these added to the barges & dinghys already here formed an astonishing flotilla. We were moored in the middle of the dock remember, and at times it was possible to walk from our gangway ladder right to the quay wall by clambering from barge to barge – they are not moored to each other but just lie alongside & keep their place by being jammed in a mass; so that the efforts & the antics (and, no doubt “language” if one only understood it) of the bargemen who were trying to work their craft through the congestion were entertaining as they pulled one barge out of place, and then pushed another away in their endeavours to force a passage. Once or twice during the morning a tug boat came down the dock & made a passage for herself by sheer force, scattering the poor old lighters in all directions, and then – such a pandemonium as the scramblers tried to regain their old positions. For a variation I sat on the other side of the dock & watched coaling operations on Steamers moored to the Wharf. A stream of natives (anything from 200 to 300) split up into 3 gangs, carry the coal up in baskets on their head. They walk aboard, tip their baskets as they walk past the hold, then make their way to the monster coal stacks ashore where they throw down their empties as coolies place full baskets on their heads as they pass. It is all continuous – no stopping at all, they more like machinery & the quantity of coal that is got aboard by this endless procession in a day runs into many hundreds of tons. Many women work as coal carriers also! Mentioning women, reminds me that I have many times been going to refer to them in these notes, especially as from time to time I have said something of the native men. Such native women as are seen about are, generally speaking, of the lower & poorer classes, sweetmeat & such like vendors at street corners, mainly wizened; though others would be met with hurrying along the streets generally carrying a load or with their children hanging on to their hands. The majority of these women (the younger ones particularly) make a half-hearted sort of attempt to veil their face as a white man is passing. The older ones – the wizened ones I’ve mentioned – are poor shrivelled up repulsive creatures, & the word “hag” might have been coined for them. They are of course prematurely aged in this climate. It was interesting to see the way the women carry their babies. Instead of the child being in their arms they sit it straddle-legged across their hip holding it with one arm. I must have seen hundreds & not once were they carried any other way, even the merest tiny tots of babies – it looks a very uncomfortable position for both. The dress of the women is a very simple affair – one garment – the Sara. Wound round the waist it forms a sort of loose short skirt, the end then carried round the body over one shoulder & then like a shawl over the head. The sara is a thin cottony material with embroided hem – they are mostly white but occasionally you strike some very vivid colours, or rather, they strike you. All the women are laden with silver bangles & anklets &, as they come along, they jingle like bells on a May horse. The wearing of these adornments is their way of banking their money, they represent their wealth. Massive earrings too, rings through their noses, & rings on the toes, are very common sights – with regard to the toe jewellery let me say nearly all the women are barefooted. The higher caste woman is “purdah”, i.e. not visible to the eyes of mere man other than their family, & one comes across many carriages taking such families out for an airing with the venetian blind sides of the carriages so arranged that the occupant could see without being seen. I saw two women boarding a tram car one evening – they were covered with a hood, stretching down to their feet, with two little holes for eye space; their husbands stood by jealously guarding them until they placed them, like luggage, on the front platform of the tram where they squatted on the floor out of sight, their husbands then entering the car at the rear. Occasionally I have seen women so veiled & hooded, with these peep holes, at the Tram Terminus in Chowringhee (one young madam I stood by one day was I am sure “making eyes” at me through her peepers when her Companion wasn’t looking – an exciting adventure for her probably). They are always in charge of some old woman not so covered. I must just mention, to finish up this Day’s notes, that we had an unusually brilliant display of tropical lightening in the evening. Of course there is lightening every night here, but to-night’s exhibition was a wonder & a marvel. It was fascinating beyond words & I sat for an hour watching it.Saturday, Sept 19th, 1914Day No. 56~Calcutta~ A.M. – drove up to the City with Captain to get the news as to whether the “Emden” had yet been caught, but “nothing doing”. In the Harbour Masters Room I had the pleasure of shaking hands with the Captain of the Italian steamer “Loredano” who certainly prevented the “Emden” from bagging other British victims. Calcutta has done him well, & rightly so; the Lt. Governor of Bengal presented him with a gold watch & chain for his action. It was most interesting to hear from him “all about it”. There was little or no business today in the City – most of the Offices being closed it being as Indian Holiday; its name, “Mahalaya”, though don’t know what that signifies. Consequently the Captain having time at his disposal we had Dinner together at Pelitis. Afterwards we had a drive over the City Boundary to the Soorah Jute Mill to call on his friends the Nicholsons, spending an hour there. Owing to the Holiday the Mill was silent at which I was much disappointed but Mr. Nicholson having been good enough to invite me to come & be shown round I intend to do so at the first opportunity. The Mill is almost in the Country & part of the road lay through practically virgin forest being bordered by some fine trees with their welcome green shade. Don’t know whether I’ve mentioned it before, but the trees are always green here no shedding of leaves as with us in the Autumn. Altho’ today was accounted cool – though I could not subscribe to that! – the scorch had somewhat gone out of the sun when we were returning so that the long drive back to the ship at Kidderpore was enjoyable.

Sunday, September 20th, 1914.Day No. 57~Calcutta~ The Inward Mail was in so that letters from Home were brightest feature of the morning. Tiffin & siesta over I drove down to the River to the Bengal-Nagpur Railway Pontoon to meet Captain Jull who was on duty today. He is the Commodore of the Railway Company’s fleet of River Steamers and is presently in command of the “Khargpore” – a monster River boat which takes a whole load of Goods Wagons from one side of the Hooghly to the other. The B.N. Railway Company’s Terminus is on the opposite bank to Calcutta (a great drawback to them I should imagine) and they transfer their enormous Goods Traffic by Steamers, taking a whole train (heavily loaded) on board, wagon by wagon, very ingeniously. I was glad to see “how it was done”. The “Khargpore” was only coming down the river when I arrived; Captain Jull gave me a cordial hail as he came alongside & I was soon aboard. A welcome cup of afternoon tea & a chat & a stroll under the awning watching at the same time that most wonderful traffic sweeping up & down the River Hooghly passed the time all too quickly. Dinner being over rather late & also feeling it a wee bit too far to go to the Cathedral as I had intended, I spent the evening on the Ship. Mr. Quayle came off in the dinghy later on & we paced the deck awhile. He invited me to Dinner tomorrow evening.

Monday, 21st Sept, 1914Day No. 58~ This morning I drove into Calcutta with the Captain and made the usual round of Ship’s business calls with him to the Agents, Shipping Office, & the Harbour Master all with a view of finding whether the embargo on the Port had been raised or when likely to. Still no information, and still we are to stay at the Moorings in the middle of the Dock, with no more certainty as to our position than that we are as likely to go on the morrow as perhaps a week hence. We are just living from day to day as it were, and an air of resignation seems now to be coming over folk aboard displacing the wave of impatience which was much in evidence previously. Tiffin at the Bristol Grill, & a pleasant hour brought half-past two round and I left Captain Tyers and journeyed per Gharry to the Soorah Jute Mills to take advantage of Mr. Nicolson’s invitation to inspect the Mill under working conditions. It was all so extremely interesting that I would like, knowing your keen interest for “general knowledge”, to give you a rough idea of the process of manufacture – so far as my memory serves.

Just on entering the Mill proper my attention was drawn to a small building, (detached, open sides and roofed) which is merely used as a prying place for the Mohammedans. There are many Mohammedans in the mill and as they were continually leaving their work (Mill Owners daren’t stop ‘em) & going outside the Factory gates to a little shrine sort -o-place opposite to pray, the Mill Owners conceived the idea at last of running up this small shed-like building where, when the fit seizes him, Mr. Mohammedan can slither in and perform his devotions without now going off the premises – but, as to Jute! This district of India is particularly favourable to the growth of the jute plant, possibly on account of the swampy ground almost everywhere hereabout and, or, the humid atmosphere. The Plant is of a rush-like nature & grows tall – up to about 12 feet – and, when flowers, is ready for cutting, it being harvested about August or September. The plants are cut close to the roots and are then taken & placed in ponds – or “tanks” as they call them out here – to soften & to enable the fibre to be easily removed; from 10 to 20 days is taken up by this operation. Only the bark part of the plant is the jute fibre; the heart, or the pith, is useless for mill purposes and so far as I gathered the pith which is wonderfully light is only used for making Topees. The bark, therefore, is stripped off the plant – and after the steeping it has had it becomes detached as easily as the skin of a banana – and is hung up on bamboo rails to dry. Arriving at the Mill in bales, these are opened and the material – now of course in its rawest state – is sorted on account of the quality of the jute varying, and from thence it is “batched” or softened. Jute is of such a rough & coarse nature that it cannot be treated without being softened hence it is passed through a long narrow frame-work containing many pairs of fluted rollers each working into the other and just mangling the jute, though, after it goes through the first few rollers a mixture of oil & water is allowed to trickle on it and, after more squeezing , the jute comes out at the other side of the machine cleaned and softened by the oil & water and is by now quite silky to the touch. It is carried now to the Teasing Machine – this being a large revolving cylinder covered with fine spikes – like gramophone needles, and as the jute is fed into this it is torn apart, the fibres being combed out quite straight and becomes of a finer nature. It is refined again in another Machine if needs be, according to the quality of the work and the certain weight & size wanted, & is now in that state where it is called “tow”, and, as turned out of the machines in long lengths it is guided by the native women into deep cans (say the height of an umbrella) called “sliver” cans. The next machine is fed from these “sliver” cans, where the tow goes over a roller carrying it to a bar with steel pins and thence to a pin-studded roller moving faster than the first, thus drawing & combing out the tow into fine threads. In the next process these fine threads are merged by giving them a twist and making them thicker and stronger, and are then wound on to long bobbins; the material has now become “rove”. The bobbins are carried to the spinning frame where they are placed on cylinders revolving at a very rapid rate. The “rove” is led through more complicated machinery – I cannot pretend to five you the details – where it is changed into “yarn”; the “warp” and the “weft”, the weft being the finer. The “weft” yarn is wound into “cops” or coils to a shape to fit into the shuttle. The “warp” is wound from the small bobbins on to very large ones. According to the width of the cloth required so many bobbins of “warp” yarn are wound on to a large cylinder which is placed on the back of the loom. The weaving follows, & as the shuttle is thrown backwards & forwards, producing interlocking of the threads, the cloth grows before your eyes and is usually made in 7 “cuts”. A “cut” I am informed is 93 yards long, hence the customary length woven in one piece is 651 yards. The cloth in the rough is then passed through the Damping Machine where it is sprinkled with water, and then taken to the Calendering Machine – roller upon roller, seven of them, (2 ½ tons the weight of the heaviest) and two of the rollers are made of compressed paper these giving a polished finish to the cloth. Calendering is the last process. The finished cloth is made into sacks, the length requires for each sack being automatically cut by a guillotine. The lengths are passed on to another department & sewn into bags by machinery – done in a twinkling. Sacks of all kinds are made, coarse or fine, to suit the commodity to be carried in it, as instance fine for flour or sugar. While, as I have said, the process of manufacture was interesting, none the less so were the natives employed there. You could scarcely credit that amongst all the machinery, and the movement of the workers scurrying backwards & forwards carrying & wheeling material, in the narrow alleyways between the Machines, that all about were little kiddies just playing. The women who work in the factory won’t do so unless they can have their children with them and it is a recognised practice that the kiddies (quite little toddlers) go to the Mill & play about anywhere handy to their Mother. Even women with babies a month or two old – or less - were working, but these are found duties which enable them to squat on the floor so that the little one can be kept either in their lap or left to lie alongside, mostly clothed in nothing as usual. A lot of boy labour is employed, especially at the bobbin side of spinning frame, and remarkably expert they are at their duties, done at top speed. On enquiring I was informed that boys are not allowed to work in the Mill under 7 years of age (!) whereupon I remarked that the lot we were looking at was only “7 and a week” for poor little chaps they were but overgrown babies. Anyway they looked happy enough and are paid the colossal sum of two to three annas per day (an anna is a penny). I suppose this is good pay when you compare it with the coolie labour aboard the ship – the dock labourer – he gets six annas a day, a few of them 8 annas. It would be incomplete if I failed to mention the noise – it was tremendous, positively deafening, & in many of the rooms it was only possible to hear one speak when they obligingly yelled down my ear, and it would be equally incomplete if I omitted to mention the heat!! Oh! My! – Melting moments. For a good sample of a Turkish Bath commend me to a jute Factory – in the Tropics. Leaving the Mill, had a pleasant walk round the various outbuildings – the Engine House, the Store Shop, the Blacksmith’s shop & the Forge, where it was most interesting to watch the molten metal being moulded, minor machinery replenishments are all made on the premises; and then on to the Compound where the Workpeople live. What hovels! – Tumbledown ramshackle huts which, but for the height of the doorway, you would take to be a pig-sty – still they are content.

Just a little outside of the Compound, on the edge of the jungle, in a hut a shade more ambitious than the others is the workshop of a famous native pen-maker. On the verandah – which is about breast high from the ground – caged off with bamboo fencing were a few of the machines or presses (hand worked) but the oddity himself, unfortunately, was non est. Shop shut. However, the usual ubiquitous small boy was hanging round and at the request of Mrs. Nicolson squirmed through the fencing and I was given a sample of Mr. Pen-makers Nibs and a copy of his circular. Whoever pray would dream that they were manufactured in such an out-of-the-world primitive place as this lovely edge of the jungle fringed with ponds, high coarse grasses, cocoa nut palms, wild banana trees and sundry growths intensely tropical looking. An ominous noise made us hasten back – the daily thunder clouds had been gathering for the last half-hour and we only got to the Mill, & that by a sprint, in time. There was no preliminary few spots here, the clouds just burst, and in quarter of an hour all the Mill grounds were turned into a lake. This was the heaviest thunderstorm I have experienced, here or elsewhere, - lightening & thunder, flash bang-bang, simultaneously. The reverberations were like roars of artillery, the wind had fits of screaming and the upper floor of the bag warehouse on which I was standing trembled again and, amidst it all, the native women just squatting round about me calmly went on with their work! Shows you can get used to anything – even to terrific thunderstorms! I was detained with all this an hour beyond the time I had intended leaving as I was dining with the Quayles. However, a quick drive back to Calcutta (several of the streets still a swamp after the storm) put that nicely right as we did not dine until 8 o’clock. After dinner was initiated into “Cribbage” with its mystifying counting – spent a very pleasant evening indeed and left for Kidderpore at 10/30. Tuesday, 22nd Sept. 1914.Day No. 59~Calcutta~ The morning drive into Calcutta with Captain Tyres has become quite an institution, a distinctly enjoyable one particularly after leaving the mile of noisy road through the Native Bazaar at Kidderpore to get into the tranquil shades of the Maidan where, on the splendid surface roads, our carriage makes nice pace for a couple of miles across the Park to Government House. This morning’s drive was made the pleasanter by a nice breeze not over tempered by the sun. I put in an hour at the “Royal” & wrote sundry letters until the Captain called for me there when we drove round for a while; made the usual call for refreshments while a fresh gee-gee was being procured & thence on to the Ship. After a restful afternoon we drove down to the Julls and then, taking Miss Jull with us, journeyed again to Calcutta to make sundry purchases at the Silk & curio shops at the Market & places near to there. The Captain had set his mind on an occasional table & ultimately he secured a gem (a fine specimen of up-country native craftmanship) at a high class native shop off Chowringhee. A really entertaining shopping expedition; & an education also to rummage over the treasures, as I did, in the various shops. After dinner went ashore with the Chief Officer & hailing a passing gharry soon fetched up at the Mission, where an attempt to play billiards was made difficult by the green fly which were very much abroad tonight. They settled in droves on the cloth, the slaughter made by the rolling balls was amusing & certainly not good for the table so we gave it up, and, to the accompaniment of coffee & smoke spent a chatty hour with the Rev. Nibbs & a few other gentlemen. Eventually a party of us strolled back to the “Manipur”, enjoying the calm of the suburban lanes – there was a softness in the air, a cool breeze, & a feeling of restfulness abroad, myriads of stars. A typical & delightful tropical night.Wednesday, 23rd Sept. 1914.Day No. 60~Calcutta~ Again to Calcutta in the Captain’s gharry, after a good spell on deck watching the dock life after breakfast, but only went part of the way this time as I wanted some odds & ends from the Market so I left him to proceed. I ultimately found myself opposite the Bengal Club & whilst waiting for the Tram I strolled into the grounds to get a better look of this most exclusive & famous club. It is a remarkably handsome building & when sizing it up, with a country-cousin sort of look doubtless there came by an Assistant Secretary or some other leading executive official who courteously asked me inside a portion of the Club. It was patent to him that I was a new comer. Asked why? & he explained that I had not lost the English freshness from my complexion & that they can always pick out new arrivals by that. We chatted of Home (England is always referred to as “Home” out here) and after awhile I proceeded to pay my promised visit to the Cathedral. I am glad I have seen Calcutta’s Cathedral – “St. Paul’s Cathedral”. It is not built on the ponderous mould that we are rather apt to associate with Cathedrals, it is on much “finer” lines. “Gothic” I think is the style, and while the outside, architecturally speaking, does not quite fit in with one’s idea of a Cathedral the interior certainly does. The Cathedral atmosphere is here at once, the inside is elaborate & handsome & there are numerous finely carved monuments, tombs & statues; also tablets & medallions these being mainly of an historical or military character – Indian Mutiny & so on. The Commission Plate was presented by Queen Victoria & I observed that the original East Window (later destroyed by Cyclone) was the gift of the Dean & Chapter of Windsor. The outstanding feature in the Cathedral is the great West Window which, so I read, was erected by the Government of India in 1880 as a Memorial to Lord Mayo. From St. Paul’s I journeyed per Tram again to Kalighat to see the Hindoo Temple there which is dedicated to the Hindoo goddess “Kali”. (Incidentally the name Calcutta is derived from Kali-ghat, the landing place – mythical – of Kali). The fame of this Temple of Kali is great amongst the Hindoo – it is a famous shrine & is visited annually by scores of thousands of pilgrims. A great feature of the worship is the frequent sacrifice of goats to the goddess. These poor unoffending bleaters have their necks wedged down into a V shaped slot on an upright wooden stand, when the “executioner” with a vigorous sweep of his knife beheads them. I missed this performance but saw a result of the sacrifice – a bleeding headless goat lying by. It is described by those who have seen it as a sickening spectacle, & certainly cruel, but the Authorities don’t interfere for the sake of keeping peace with the Native it being such an important part of their worship. The Temple is 300 or 400 years old but as I did not see inside there is not very much to say, as the outside does not impress one greatly. The Native about – the crowds of him – interested me more. I have referred somewhere to the Tanks, the City’s old system of water supply, but there is a class of individual I should refer to in this connection – the water carriers. “Bheestis”, I think, is the native name for them & I have come across quite a number of them today carrying water for household purposes & filling their bags, made of skins, from the street hydrants which are all over the City. They are clothed almost “mit nodings on” and as for the matter of that coolie one sees in droves just everywhere is garbed similarly. Modesty, well, they don’t know it, and, from all accounts its respect for English law that keeps them but barely decent. These water-carriers or “bheesties” are a caste by themselves (one of the lowest castes) and on board ship this individual, or his equivalent, is called the “Topaz”. Speaking of the Natives I came across one today praying in his shop window amongst all his wares, - vegetables. These praying folk are met with everywhere but this particular instance really had its funny side, stacks of vegetables & fruit all around him & nearly on top of him was a bit comic but I can’t say whether if a customer had come along the devotions would have come to a sudden end. I specks so! On my way back to the Tram after leaving the Temple I first took a stroll through the village & then on to the creek, Tolly’s Nullah it is called, where another crowd of Natives were met with all bathing or just bathed, men & women. It is interesting to watch the variety of craft, all sorts shapes & sizes, going up & down this little creek which encircles Calcutta. It takes the place of a canal & has a surprising amount of traffic. I had just got to the Tram junction when the long threatening storm broke. Thunderstorms in Calcutta are of daily occurrence at this season but are usually of short duration. Today’s was an exception. It opened with a whirlwind, (My! How the dust, paper & refuse danced in spirals) & then the rain. I ran to meet the Alipore tram, going towards Kidderpore, & boarded it just in time. Such rain! & such thunder & lightening! A quarter of an hour’s ride brought me to the Kidderpore Bridge where I had to change cars & I was fortunate enough to find one waiting. I had only to step from one to the other & by the time I had arrived at the Kidderpore Terminus the deluges of rain had turned the roads into lakes. The water was then over the first step of the tram & almost level with the platform. What a storm! & the rain, well, one has never seen the like – it is difficult to describe- & all in 25 minutes. I can say no more than this to illustrate it than that as I got off the tram I was just short of up to my knees in water. I hailed a gharry standing on the far side of the road but as he could not persuade his horse to come close up to the step there was nothing else left to do but to wade through it. This sort of thing happens frequently during the rainy season & owing to Calcutta being so pancake flat (there is only a difference of 6 feet in the highest & lowest of the city) the rain cannot be carried off quickly especially if the tide is high in the Hooghly. Our English Papers would have devoted a column or so to such an occurrence & I was tickled to see it so casually referred to in the next morning newspaper – so:- “Statesman” Sep 24, 1914.

A change from my “wading clothes, a meal, & I spent the evening aboard writing.Thursday, 24th Sept 1914.Day No. 61~Calcutta~ Still at Kidderpore & likely to be as this morning learnt that the “Emden” had had a go at Madras! Today being mail day was busy writing until Tiffin & afterwards journeyed up to Calcutta to the G.P.O. with my own & everybody else’s letters & then met Mr. Chief Engineer by appointment to travel with him to Bally Jute Mills to see his friend the Manager & inspect the Mill. A gharry obtained, we made for the Howrah Station journeying by way of Harrison Road. This thoroughfare is probably the most crowded & congested, despite its width, in the whole City. It sports double tram lines & a never ending stream of up & down traffic of bullock & buffalo carts & gharrys, coming from several junctions but particularly pouring off the Howrah Bridge which might really be called a continuation of Harrison Road. The shops on both sides of the road are entirely native & so crowded are the footwalks that it is a feat in jostling to pass along. Here, therefore, you have the busiest street you could well imagine & what do you think – on top of all this, there are cows everywhere; sidewalks, street, shop doors; sometime meandering slowly, more often than not squatting on the side & the whole place in consequence is like a dirty farm-yard. The explanation is that to the Hindoo the Cow is a most sacred animal & hereabouts is their rendezvous. They are privileged to do just as they please & should one of them take a fancy to the greenstuff disposed outside the vegetable shop (I saw such an instance one day) the native proprietor will not beat the humped beast off but will cajole it away with something more succulent. In Harrison Road there is always pointed out to the sight-seer a large house the residence of Rai Budree Das Bahudur the builder of the Jain Temple. We ultimately fetched the Railway Station & as we were in excellent time the inevitable “cold drink” had first to be sampled & afterwards wandered about the Station. To me it was one of the sights. The Station resembled a fair; the tessellated composition floor – as shiny & slippery as you please – was everywhere crowded with squatting natives, men with their families & without them, women, children, & parties entrenched behind bundles of baggage were all about the place. The native loves Railway travelling, it is one of his greatest treats, & will save up odd cash for months to take a trip. Arrived at the station he is never in a hurry, he will sit on the floor hours before his train goes, time does not count for him, & it is no uncommon thing I am assured for him to come the previous evening & if the train be missed to sit quite unconcernedly until the morrow – He can sleep anywhere & in any position. He takes no account whatsoever of Time Tables, first comes to the Station to suit his convenience and if there is no train soon, well – he uncomplainingly waits & enjoys it. Vendors of sticky sweetmeat messes, coloured drinks, cakes of sorts, nuts, & some weird concoction in paper bags moved about amongst them and when ultimately we boarded our train such of the natives as got aboard did so with screams of delight, shouting & waving like a party of children going to a Sunday School Treat! They are an endless source of amusement to a stranger. Bally is but a couple of Stations away & after a run through swamp country & paddy fields, was soon reached. We left the Station without going past the Ticket Collector.

The Mill having a siding on the line we took if for a short cut soon reached the Manager’s House where acceptable hospitality & a lounge on the verandah, with the punkah keeping the air moving, was indulged in. Ultimately I was shown over the Mill; a superior very much larger one to the Soorah Jute Mill. The processes are similar to the ones I described here, but a walk round the Mill’s extensive grounds & through the various outbuildings was interesting. In one spot near his House Mr. Manager pointed out where he had missed a six foot snake last night (remember it is all jungle about there) he bagged a big fellow but a few days ago & assumed this was its mate lurking about. Seemed to take it quire as a matter of course! In one of the buildings (near to the Mill proper) where flour is stored preparatory to being made into dressing for treating the Jute, I was taken in to see a sight. This you would never guess. Cockroaches!! Size – whoppers, thumbs length; but it was the quantity of them that was the feature. Crowds were on the walls, congregations were on the sacks of flour, multitudes were in corners of the floor all attracted by the food (the dust of the flour) and literally & truly the room contained thousands of these monsters. Ugh! I hitched up my slacks as I stood amongst them, it gave one the shivers & to crown the lot there sat quite unconcerned on some of the sacks an old coolie & boy going on working with roaches all about them. They swarmed like ants & are an uncontrollable pest. I was told that every Friday this store room is emptied, sacks carried out & brushed, & the hose turned on the walls & floor to swill the cockroaches away and, incredible as it may seem, I was informed that in a few days they are back again in numbers such as I saw them today. Oh this land of creepy crawly things! The swiftly darkening dusk coming on & my homeward train time approaching, my departure was the next event. (Mr. Chief staying overnight). Twilight to dark is almost like drawing a curtain in these parts the light goes so quickly, and a native servant was sent with me with a lamp to pilot me through the grounds, the native village, & on to the Station where my lamp bearer left me after a most exquisite salaam to the Sahib & may he live long & so on. I had 20 minutes to wait on the dimly lighted station but there was much to occupy me; Mosquitoes particularly, fireflies dancing prettily in the trees all about the Station too, & very vivid lightening down the line, for the usual thunderstorm was then rumbling up. In the train back to Calcutta met 3 Europeans – 2 gentlemen & a lady –(the latter French at a guess) coming up from Pondicherry & they were telling me that just before they left yesterday morning the “Emden” had suddenly appeared off there after shelling Madras. The “Emden” & her doings looms very large presently in all conversations. Got to the ship just before Dinner was finished & Dod coming down later on we spent the evening aboard.

Friday, 25th Sept, 1914Day No. 62~Calcutta~ Spent a quiet day aboard, though had the usual morning drive to Calcutta, returning by Tram. Calcutta has a truly splendid service of electric trams. The cars are run in pairs – one & a trailer – the leading car being reserved for Europeans so I was informed, & the rear for Natives. This was not altogether my experience for occasionally one would come across better class natives in the first class car & I think the explanation lies, so far as the average native is concerned, in the question of the fare, it being but half, or less, in the second class. At anyrate I gathered repeatedly from several sources – it would crop up in conversation – that no self respecting European would be seen in the Natives’ Car! This question of colour again; I suppose it will remain one of India’s eternal problems. A great feature of European life in this Capital (a mis-print(!) Delhi is now the Capital) is to go for a tram ride after dinner in the cool of the evening & many times have I seen folks in evening dress (all English dress for dinner here) enjoying the air in this fashion – the trams needless to say are windowless. Seated on deck idling, & talking with Mr.Chief Officer this afternoon, conversation turned on Storms & in connection with that great Tornado I have previously mentioned, which happened when he was here last voyage, he pointed out the place on the deck where the Captain’s heavy deckchair was caught, whipped up as though it was a piece of paper, whirled skywards & soared right over the Dock beyond the Sheds & dropped goodness knows where. Ropes holding steamers snapped like string & much damage was done to many ships. The path of the Storm was directly across the Dock. In the evening remained on Deck for an hour or so, & on the scores & scores of barges which I’ve told you about natives were having a musical evening. One seemed to set the other going, so that the singing – most awful timeless dirges - & the beating of tom-toms went on with endless monotony. It was a particularly dark night with a lot of tropical lightening in the distance.Saturday, 26th Sept. 1914.Day No. 63.~Calcutta.~ To Calcutta this a.m. as usual & after having Tiffin in town got a gharry by the “Maidan” & drove across to Chandpul Ghat for I had promised myself to go to the Botanical Gardens today at Sibpur on the opposite side of the River to Calcutta. Chandpul Ghat is a little landing stage on the River & whilst waiting for the Ferry Steamer there was plenty of interest watching the bathing from the Ganges bank at the back of the Stage. Hundreds bathing, mostly women & children & but a few men this time. The women just go into the water clothed as they are ordinarily and when they emerge very dexterously put on a clean “sara” as they unfold the wet one underneath it. Towels are unnecessary, if the wet body damps the dry clothes they put on the sun here will dry it in a few minutes, especially today – for it’s a scorcher. Boarding the River Steamer we made a criss-cross passage down the River calling at various Ferries & passing fine groves of Cocoa Nuts & Mangoes. The boats are fliers, really very speedy & the breeze they made was welcome. It did not take very long to fetch up at my landing place – the College Ghat, this is a landing place for the Civil Engineering College, a large establishment & certainly a handsome building, adjoining the Botanical Gardens. A short walk soon brought one to the Gardens where a little shade was appreciated for today there was exceptionally fierce brilliance of sunshine & sweltering heat. The Gardens were started so far back as 1786, though they have twice been nearly wiped out by cyclones. First in 1867; & the damage then done was being nicely got under when in 1870 a terrific cyclone again laid its fury over the gardens almost destroying them. The Grounds are very extensive & the frontage to the River is nearly a mile & a quarter & they cover 273 acres. It is a favourite rendezvous of Calcutta people for picnics & forms an ideal spot. Needless to say there is a wealth of trees, foliage, shrubs & plants – in any Botanical Gardens you would expect that – but here, in this climate of alternating humidity & heat, there is a luxuriant growth of everything. There are marvels of tropical beauty & gorgeous colourings of such flowers as were out, the flower season though being just now finishing. I called in at the Curators Office to see if there was any Guide Book perchance (none issued, only a Map & plan) and had a talk with him (Englishman). I suppose I had asked so many questions that ultimately he enquired if I was a journalist (!) – especially as he saw me taking notes - & seemed relieved to find I was just a very ordinary species. He explained that they had just entered on a scheme of remodelling & I could see from his remarks that he did not wish any detailed account to be published as before very long, through situations being changed & the general upsetment (tho’ I saw no traces of it) any report might be misleading. He evidently felt that justice would not perhaps be done to his beloved Gardens & it was very nice to see that he was so jealous of the honour of it. I gathered in conversation that the Gardens contain specimens from Siam, Phillipines, China, Japan, Europe, Africa, Madagascar, various parts of India, America, etc., & so on. The Herbarium, a very fine glass building, is reckoned to be the finest in Asia & contains some 30,000 specimens. The grounds are laid out in splendid drives & walks. Avenues of very tall palms & other trees, and the Bamboo is a feature, there are some fine clumps of this with some enormous canes. The gardens are studded with lakes & in some the water lilies were beautiful, and this can be said of the many varieties of birds, butterflies & dragonflies for they abounded here. Of course the tit-bit of the Gardens is the famous Banyan Tree. This is the largest & most celebrated Banyan Tree in the world & well do I remember an account of it in the Reading Book when at School. I certainly never dreamt I should ever see it. I wished to photograph the tree, but as soon as I got ready a sightseeing party of 4 Natives ran & stood in my way wishing to be in the very front of the picture. As I moved, so did they, & it took me a little time to get these enthusiasts to stand where they did. The tree is a wonder indeed, it throws off its roots from the branches, and as you go well inside underneath the branches & between the roots it becomes almost dark in the centre & you get some idea of its immensity. Particulars of its dimensions are painted on a board & I wished to note these but to my great disappointment found I had lost my pencil. However, I got over the difficulty by getting a bit of stick & as it was a bit swampy in one place under the Tree I mixed a little mud, and with stick and mud – hey presto! – laboriously copied the details. The Notice Board contained the following:- October, 1908. This tree is about 239 years old. The circumference of its trunk, at 5½ feet from the ground, is 51 feet and, of its crown, 997 feet. Its height, 85 feet. It has 562 aerial roots actually rooted in the ground. This you will note was 6 years ago & I don’t suppose there has been much change in the intervening period. I left the Ferry Steamer, homewards, at Tuckta Ghat, & as this was handy to the Mission I called there & had a refreshing cup of tea before walking by the Maidan to get the Tram down the Kidderpore Rd. Dinner over, Captain & I drove down to the Julls & eventually spent the evening there. Today begins a great Native religious festival which lasts for 3 days – “Pujas” such are called, but this one is the Durga Puja. “Durga” being the particular goddess in whose honour all the festivals are held. Many of the women & children are today decked in gala costume & look most picturesque. Of all the hot days experiences today has been the hottest & I am sure the temperatures, had they been available, would have been an interesting reflection. Sunday, 27th. Sept. 1914Day No. 64Calcutta~ Most of today was spent quietly on board. From my deck chair there was a wealth of interest watching the ceaseless traffic over the roadway bridge across the Dock. Foot passengers of various castes; gharries of all sorts drawn by ponies of similar sorts some loaded inside & out – these having quite a few passengers sitting on the roof of the cab. This is a very common sight & there seems to be no regulation regarding the number of people a ticca-gharry is allowed to carry. The Drivers of them all are pretty inhuman for while the miserable ponies are often over-burdened with the load they are incessantly goaded on by their driver’s continuous flogging. One sees brutality to beasts almost at every turn, particularly about the Dock Road, & the unfortunate bullocks with their monster loads are very cruelly treated. They are uninterruptedly hit with sticks about their head or other tender parts; jabbed in some places; and the seizing of their tails deliberately twisting them round & round is a favourite way of getting these unfortunate brutes to “gee up”. The cruelty to Animals here would impress any newcomer & it is a reproach to Calcutta that such be allowed to exist. I drove down to Garden Reach to take afternoon tea with the Julls but would not stay to dinner as I wished very particularly to go to the Cathedral for Evening Service. I have had no opportunity up to now to attend a service there & this was probably my last chance. However, I did not get to the Cathedral for the usual thunderstorm coming on just as I intended starting brought with it such rain – a cloudburst – that it was impossible to venture out.Monday. 28th. September, 1914.Day No. 65.~Calcutta~ Today, this monotonous standing by of the ship (i.e. her loaded & lying idle waiting for the Port to be declared open) was broken by a cablegram from England that we are to bring with us a Native Crew for one of the Firm’s new ships & bustle life & movement is the order of the day in consequence. The space under the fo’castle head is to be enclosed & arranged to accommodate some 70 or 80 men. The Nicholson family (Soorah Jute Mill you will remember) were aboard for afternoon tea owing to the Mills being closed (the Puja Holidays) & time was passed aboard pleasantly. The Captain & self went ashore after Dinner for a run up to Calcutta for the sake of the drive & did a turn round the native quarters to see the crowds; streets in places almost impassable & gay lights & fireworks abroad. The Puja again.Tuesday, 29th September, 1914.Day No. 66~Calcutta.~ During the morning took a walk through some of the Villages, the offside of Kidderpore, but adjacent to the Ship & a very interesting morning ‘twas. On returning we struck in one of the villages a Puja ceremony in full swing. Some 7 or 8 men standing behind many little trays of wheat, rice, & liquids in chatties, were taking part & the audience seemed to follow it all sympathetically. They (the men) would chant for awhile, sing in that dolorous dirgy way of theirs, & one occasionally would sprinkle about some of the grain & rice, while Another of them was continually swaying himself & going through the most extravagant movements & intricate contortions muttering awhile – he had been at this game for a long time evidently & looked on the point of exhaustion having worked himself up to fine pitch of fanaticism for he was beginning to foam. Three goats had been slaughtered & there they lay headless & bleeding. The significance of all this ceremonial I am unable to indicate but I take it that the rites performed were to propitiate the goddess Durga. The Native is very susceptible to the White man’s presence at these functions so after awhile we thought it policy to retire especially as Tiffin time was near. Opportunity offered to take several native photographs on the way back. (Later note. The majority of these came to nought bad plates, evidently, some I’d bought in Calcutta – have had numbers come to grief this way). In the evening – dinner over – went with Captain Tyers to the Julls &, after a little music, decided to go to the River side taking Miss Jull with us to see the wind up of the Durga Puja there. Captain Jull was not over desirous that we should do this, as these occasions are not without their little excitements. The Mohammedans & Hindoos at these times frequently come into collision, a very small spark sets up a disturbance & the riots take such a lot of quelling that it is as well for Europeans to be absent. However, promising we’d be careful we set out. It was not long before we got on to one of the roads leading to the River & it was all we could do to get our gharry through the throng. Crowds of people were following in procession the image of Durga; this was usually suspended from poles carried by four men & the image itself with its canopy & its trappings spread nearly the width of the roadway. It was gaily lighted & was borne to the accompaniment of tom-toms, gongs, bells, horns, torches & coloured fires and all the followers greatly excited. Each little village, street or coterie has its own Durga so that we passed many of them before we reached the River. Arrived there, the masses of people were so great that it was prudent to leave our Carriage; the horse was restive & the crowds made it impossible too to go further. We managed by climbing a small wall to get into the grounds of some Works & by a little judicious flattery obtained permission to go through a shed building on to a little Stage running down into the River. We had a delightful “seat in the stalls” in consequence as the tide being very low we looked down on to the beach & saw the thousands squatting there and, in the road behind, we were able to watch the arrival of continuous processions each with their Durgas. There must have been dozens of them & the same sort of thing was going on at various parts of the River too. It was a very animated & picturesque scene & we were in a splendid position to see the last act. Each image was taken down, divested of its ornaments - for it was heavily & gaudily adorned with silver bracelets necklets & jewels - & then Carried to the Water’s edge. Here it was placed on a boat, together with baskets of fruit, grain & stuff, & carried out into the stream (with flares all about the boat so that everyone could see) and then offered to the “holy Ganges” by throwing the lot in. Durga was thus sent to her home for another 12 months. At the moment of immersion all the natives on the beach would rise & with much shouting go through their genuflections. Certainly an impressive sight. The occasion is seized also for a kind of baptising of the Children & as the idol sank poor little John Thomas or Eliza Mary would get their ducking in the River. I was intensely pleased that I had been present at a Native Festival and I felt I had seen a bit of the real India - the India of the story book. We probably stayed on the stage over an hour when we made our way back to the roadway &, working our way through, found our gharry patiently waiting. We decided to make an evening of it, so drove up to Calcutta & went to the Pictures. Very good. Our excitements were not over though for on our return just as we got over the Kidderpore Bridge, Crossing Tollys Nullah, we were pulled up by a Sentry. Here were drawn up a large squad of native policemen all armed with formidable pointed long bamboo staves & we were stopped going any further. After much parleying an English Officer was brought to us & he explained there had been a big riot. The Kidderpore Road (usually crowded at this hour, although it was midnight) was cleared, all the folks had been sent indoors, and he could not let us go along it as great happenings might be expected at any time. As the result of a lot of talk & explaining where we wanted to go he permitted us to go by a devious route & ultimately we got Miss Jull safely home. At each junction of the main road there was a guard of policemen and, by the Dock Bridge, when returning to the Ship, we dismissed the gharry & had a long talk with the English Officer of Police there who was fully armed & had about 200 of his men with him. Officials were coming & going, everybody was on the qui vive, & there was a –get – ready – something’s –going – to – happen feeling about. We were of opinion until then that the Durga Puja-ites had wound up with a local riot but it seems that the uproar had occurred at Budge Budge a few miles away down river. The Story is this. Away back in April a party of 400 Sikhs away from up-in-the-hills country emigrated per a Japanese Vessel to Canada, via Japan (through a deal of unscrupulous misrepresentation of sedition mongers, so I gathered here in Calcutta) & on arrival at Vancouver were not allowed to land owing to the Canadian Immigration Laws. This was known so it is said by the promoters of the movement before these 400 Indians sailed, but they evidently thought that the Canadian Government would give way & from all accounts, had they done so, this batch of emigrants was only the forerunner of a big influx of Hindoos. The organisers of the expedition were therefore checked. Landing being prohibited, they were ultimately carried back to Japan & all their money had been spent for nothing. The majority of them were stranded in Japan and instructions were sent to repatriate them to India at the expense of the Indian Government, & they landed per the Steamer “Komagata Maru” at Budge Budge today. The poor natives had admittedly suffered great privations ever since they left India & being knocked so from pillar to post were evidentially primed for trouble. They endeavoured to march on Calcutta but the Authorities foreseeing greater trouble if they got mixed up with the Native population here retailing their woes, wisely, so ‘tis said, desired that the men should entrain in the Special which had been provided for them & go straight off to their homes away up in the Punjab. Most of the men refused & started for Calcutta but, when troops wired for arrived to stop them, retraced their steps to Budge Budge Station. Once inside the station while parleying was going on with their leaders & Government Officials the general body of the Sikhs, without any warning, treacherously started firing on all & sundry. Prominent English Officers were shot, 2 fatally, & many others wounded seriously. The Military (who like everybody else were taken unawares) were then outside the Station Railings & it was a minute or two before the Troops were able to fire. Many of the rebels were killed & many got away scattering through the surrounding villages, and it is thought that they will make for Calcutta by roundabout routes & seek safety in the crowds. Every inlet therefore into the City is guarded to stop them. Hence all the precautions we have witnessed & it as felt should any body of them show up there will be more bloodshed for which the Authorities are prepared. It is a very deplorable thing.Wednesday 30th Sept. 1914Day No 67.Calcutta The major portion of the day was so distinctly hot that the most sensible thing was to pass a lazy time aboard. We quite expected news would be to hand of our departure but the Daily Paper reported that the “Emden” had sunk more ships off Ceylon so the chance of the embargo being raised seems as remote as ever. During the late evening went down to the Bridge to discuss with our Officer friend of last evening the Budge Budge Riot & to glean the latest details. He had a bigger squad of men (Natives) than last night but the majority of them were acting as reserves & lay sleeping all about the turntable of the Bridge & on a spacious projecting ledge below the Dock Wall, paying no heed to the Mosquitoes (for these wretches were out in droves) & the many monster cockroaches who were very much abroad tonight – flying and crawling (one really tired of stepping out of one’s way to crunch crunch them). Flies & moths of sorts swarmed round the brilliant electric light lamps & the crickets made a chorus everywhere.

And thus these native police slept regardless of the discomforts of their hard stone bed & the crawly tormentors. The sleeping power of the Native under trying conditions is remarkable. They are to be found at night time laying everywhere; outside buildings, in courtyards, on steps, along the sidewalks, on the hard cobble stones of the covered cartways at the jetties, and, in all such places no greater discomfort could scarcely be experienced, & yet there are making the most of this wonderful facility of wooing sleep. It was a matter of wonderment to me often on the Voyage out how the Captain’s & Officers’ “Boys” in sneaking their afternoon nap would crawl under the Cabin table & snooze away contentedly on the hard composition floor & oftentimes in the alleyways on the uninviting iron deck! Many nights too, on returning to the gharry have we found the driver, when he had been waiting, fast asleep curled up on the box, a very precarious narrow perch, & he seemingly quite indifferent to the lack of comfort. Despite all the above as to sleeping under such uncomfortable surroundings very frequently indeed is seen a coolie in the streets trotting along (they never walk when they carry anything!) with his bed – a mere wooden frame with cross strings. Where they sleep, don’t know, occasionally I saw them on the wharf but anyway, he’s got it with him for emergencies!Thursday 1st. October, 1914Day No. 68~Calcutta Mail Day! so spent the morning writing & in afternoon, up to Calcutta to present my labours to the G.P.O., - had a little afternoon tea whilst up there & made a call or two. Whilst in the city went along Clive Street towards Harrison Road to see the Burra Bazaar as I had read somewhere, & it had been mentioned to me also, that it was this quarter of Calcutta that Kipling got the groundwork, or idea, for his book “The City of Dreadful Night”. The Bazaar is a collection of narrow filthy lanes crammed with native shops & round about these said shops you can buy anything almost, and curios! Well, enough to delight any collector’s heart. A place of unbounded interest. At meal times aboard talk always veers as to when we are to be allowed to sail for Home, all sorts of opinions are expressed about it. Our stay is surely drawing to an end & it is fitting now to add that Calcutta has fascinated me beyond measure. (It is a splendid city – extends about 5 miles along the banks of the Hooghly & has a population of a million & a quarter. The Local Time here is 6 hours (5hr 59min) in advance of Greenwich). Its immense wealth & its stupendous poverty, its ancient side cheek by jowl with its modern side, are more than interesting to me a stranger – and the native & his ways are an unending novelty in this land of many races, many castes, many languages. Most of the large & older dwellings in the City are substantially built & mainly now let in flats. These are surrounded by very high walls built so high originally to ensure the privacy needed for families of certain Castes in those days. Caste, with its varying obligations, is unbreakable & cannot be departed from, to argue otherwise to the Hindoo would be unavailing & its many demands, whatever they may be, they accept as inevitable. Caste, therefore, is widespread & arbitrary & has to be respected by the European; custom & tradition too are all powerful with the native & it will need mush diplomatic education to break or vary them. One of the native clerks (or Baboos as they are called) at the “Royal” is of very high caste. A Brahmin, & once a year, on some important festival day, all the other clerks kiss his feet. He was pointed out to me. He will not drink the tap water in the building (polluted by it being used by the white man) but takes his after dinner (midday) drink from the pond, or tank as it is called, opposite the Office in the Square Gardens. A great habit of the Native which I don’t think I’ve mentioned is the continuous chewing of betel nut & with the spitting out of the juice the pavement in all parts of the City are splashed red – and with this perpetual chewing their lips too are dyed a deep red. A little incident aboard this morning caused some amusement to those not directly interested. The Ice Chest needed replenishing & a ton of ice had been brought alongside the ship but through the dinghy being ridiculously overloaded & some bungling getting ready for hoisting, the poor ice boat sank & there was our ice blocks floating away up the Dock. The commotion was great & the language was, easily, greater for the native is a terribly voluable individual & this dinghy-wallah in particular an expert. Needless to say the ice was not recovered, nobody would use it from such filthy water. Europeans are now prohibited from bathing in it so it must be pretty bad & yet you see the native after each meal washing his mouth & teeth in this selfsame Dock Water. His pots & pans ditto. Friday 2nd October, 1914Day No. 69~Calcutta~ Everybody is waxing impatient at our enforced delay occasioned by that little wretched German Cruiser. It is getting a serious matter here. All trades in Calcutta are depressed, the wonderful jute industry is paralysed & commerce in the Bay of Bengal is at a standstill. Burma has been without Mails for a fortnight. (there being no rail connection between India & there) & until less is heard of the “Emden” – when it may be presumed she has left Indian Waters – no route down the Bay is thought secure. Had a run up to Calcutta with the Captain, a call at the Agents & also at the Harbour Master’s but no news, so here we are still to languish. Had a run round to Mr. Eyears whilst in the City – that wonderful old boy over 50 years in India without once leaving it – He gave me a very nobby fly flapper the other day, it so took Captain Tyers fancy that I had to go & beg another. I spent an uneventful day & was aboard all evening during which we learnt that the Port had been declared open as far as Madras. That does not help the good ship “Manipur” much, she wanting to go further, and it is useless to make a start by going as far as Madras for that is a Port open to the Sea & having been shelled by the “Emden” once it may be repeated and, here, we rest in perfect security some 120 miles from the Sea board, therefore we still go on with the languishing!Saturday, October 3rd. 1914Day No. 70~Calcutta~ This morning was passed mainly aboard rearranging my quarters for today our Cadet “Willie” – a congenial companion – came to share my Cabin owing to a swing round of the accommodation aboard consequent on the embarking of the passenger Native Crew. I was up having dinner with Mr. Quayle & Mr. Eyears & we did a very nice tram ride after in the refreshing cool air of the evening to Behala. Along the route there were more new Native scenes and, although it was a dark night, were quite seeable from the car for the vendors of the multitudinous wares in the multitudinous ramshackle shops en route have their premises well lit with petroleum flares & lamps. There is a Temple at Behala – a noted shrine- that I just had an outside squint at, & when we returned by tram going via the Kidderpore Bridge I bade my friends good night there & made my way shipwards. I discovered during the evening that Mr. Quayle & I have a mutual lady friend in England. Isn’t it a small world!Sunday, 4th October, 1914Day No. 71~Calcutta~ The placidity of this “waiting” ship life was broken today by the arrival in batches of the native passenger crew for the new ship, their quarters under the forecastle having been completed & approved by Government Officials, I suppose the equivalent to the English Board of Trade. We see these Lascars in the streets so frequently at Liverpool that we scarcely take notice of them but if they showed themselves there in their native dress as they come on board they’d make a stir such swells in their flowing robes & gandy coloured caps. We are now on board quite a big family, so much so that according to law we have to sport a Doctor. He is a young native gentleman, & he also arrived on board during the afternoon with a swarm of his Indian friends to bid him good-bye. I was able to carry out my great wish by going to the Cathedral this evening (made sure this would really be my last chance) but I won’t say any more about it than that before the Sermon I had to come out I could not stick it further for I have been far from well these last few days. Fever, Fever, Fever.Monday, 5th October, 1914Day No. 72~ I had a very strong presentiment that the embargo on the Port would be removed today and, feeling that this would be my last day ashore I accompanied the Captain to Calcutta a.m. The usual calls on the Agents and then on to the Port Authorities proved my impression correct for, at midday, when at the latter office, the route through the Bay of Bengal & as far as Colombo was declared safe and the ship was granted her clearance. We were sailing that evening. A drive back to the Agents to pay my respects, after my letters of introduction &c, and then I parted Company with the Captain in order that I could make my own calls to bid good-bye. I had a big round but with the aid of a taxi soon got through it, having a cordial send-off from my old colleague at the “Royal”, & my last call was on Dod preparatory to rejoining the Captain when we intended journeying to the Ship together. We (Dod & I) drove to meet him but as the Captain found he was compelled to go back to the Agents Dod had a last “tiffin” with me at the famous Pelitis – incidentally, immortalised by Kipling. Then down to Kidderpore – wrote a few letters & back to Calcutta Post Office to cable home & the evening was gone. Rejoined the Ship and at 11p.m. had started to warp down the Dock.

Tuesday, 6th October, 1914. Day No. 73. {ending our 6 weeks stay exactly, at Calcutta ~ Navigation down the Hooghly not being permissible at night we came to an anchor at Garden Reach – a mile or two below the Dock - @ 3/30a.m. with the idea of sailing before breakfast time but the promised additions to the crew, to make up for several desertions which had occurred during our three weeks marking time period, had not come aboard. As the shortage amounted to 21 men, nearly all for the Engine Room, it was impossible to sail without them so the 3rd Officer was sent up to Calcutta to obtain the men & bring them down by train to Diamond Harbour where we would proceed & wait. At 9 o’c’ we hove up anchor & started – the sail down the River, with its wonderful sweeps, its twists, its turns, the local boat traffic and the occasional nearness to the banks, being as enjoyable as the sail up exactly 6 weeks ago. During Tiffin we heard the anchor chain being played out – we had arrived at Diamond Harbour some 40 miles below Calcutta. Six other ships were there and all held up for a similar reason as ourselves; including the “City of Rangoon”, who so beautifully “saved her bacon” at the Emden’s raid & the “Kabinga” , the steamer that brought all the Crews back from the ships the “Emden” had sunk. The Captain asked me during the afternoon would I come ashore with him and the Pilot – the intention being to meet the 3rd Officer. We lay about a mile & a half off the land & were taken ashore in one of the native flat topped boats, a great unwieldy-looking craft, but which proved quite a good moving boat when the eight oarsmen settled down. We landed on a little mud bank & made stepping stones to a slippery embankment amid much fun & chaff & once again we were on dry land. Diamond Harbour is a misnomer – there is no Harbour – merely a riverside cum countryside place, merely a scrappy collection of native huts, forming a village, which is completed by a signal Telegraph Station for the shipping & a Railway Station (terminus). We walked round & through the village. I was much impressed with the huts, taking them altogether they were a little better class than others I had seen although their build was the usual clayey mud & the usual roof of straw &, or, palm leaf thatch, their shape & position on the edge of “tanks” or ponds backed up by dense jungle lent to the idea that this was off the beaten track and was a bit of real India. The cocoa-nut palms, with monster vultures, beastly ugly & repulsive creatures, nesting, & the paddy fields (rice) nearly ready for harvesting were much in evidence – the colour of the paddy being the brightest of greens, a refreshing fruit made more vivid by the glaring sun and all in swamp – suggestive of fever and mosquitoes.

I could not get near enough to obtain a few ears of the grass, for I should have liked to have added a few ears of rice in its natural state to my samples, though I gathered a fine bunch of wild flowers duly taking them aboard for our lady passenger. A tramp, tramp, tramp, round & about for nearly two hours, a call at the Telegraph Station, where a wire had just arrived from the 3rd Officer advising returning by a later train with 9 men, and it was time to return; the sun had set and the twilight – such as it is – lasts only about 15 minutes. We journeyed to the Beach where on account of the tide having receded two coolies carried first the Pilot, then the Captain, both heavy men, through the slithery sloppy mud, one man only returning for me, evidently deeming my avoirdupois within his capacity, and sloshed through the slime with me in his arms just as though I were a child to the great amusement of the others, natives included. A long detour had to be made by the side of the bank so that when we headed for mid-river & were caught by the strong current, sweeping us down apace, we could nicely make the steamer. It was dark by this time & as we journeyed over the quick moving waters the moon, rising at its full, seemingly half a dozen times its size, broke from behind clouds, showing through a thick clump of intervening palms near the shore producing effects sufficient to cause us all to exclaim. The native boatmen fetched the “Manipur” in able style & we clambered up the rope ladder safely. All feeling so hot, weary & thirsty after our exertions, immediate & great demands were made on the soda water bottle and its concomitants. Duly refreshed, justice was done to our dinner, which had been kept for us, finishing about 7/30. Incidentally the 3rd officer arrived on board later bringing with him 7 men only, 2 of the 9 having failed to report at the Railway Station. I might mention here at the outset of the voyage that with the Passenger Crew for the new Brocklebank ship we have 180 souls aboard. We sport a Doctor (a native) this trip – (owing to the numbers; Indian Regulations) - & besides myself there are 6 passengers, 4 of whom belong to the Mercantile Marine &, from sundry illnesses, are being sent back home as D.B.O’s (Distressed British Officers) one of them in charge of a nurse from the Hospital & an attendant. There are two Arab Deck passengers journeying to Port Said, men who were on one of the captured German Steamers & who were being repatriated at the Government expense.Wednesday, 7th October, 1914.Day No. 74.~ Still to an anchor off Diamond Harbour. A review of the crew position, after efforts had been made to inveigle some of the passenger crew to work & who most positively refused to do so, necessitated the Captain himself journeying to Calcutta to endeavour to obtain the men still required & interview the several Authorities regarding this strange state of affairs. He returned late evening bringing with him all the men he could obtain – only 3 – and the native shipping Broker. A court of enquiry was held aboard, the Shipping Broker who had tremendous influence over his men used all the blandishments possible from bribery downwards, to get the passenger crew to make up the sailing deficiency, but their Serangs, & the crew individually, resisted all the cajoleries. Ultimately, after over an hour’s talk, a little assistance was got from the Steamer’s own deck crew to assist the Engine Room section to get the ship as far as Colombo, where the number of men required could probably be easily obtained, and, at last, all seemed “calm & bright” and steam was ordered for 8/45 next morning. In the meantime aboard the day had passed away just lazily and the late afternoon saw the Pilot & self once again ashore. A short walk & then to the Signal Station enquiring for telegram from Captain & it was time to return – dusk. Had noticed the “Manipur” was morsing & mentioned it to the Pilot in case it was for his benefit but he said “No”; the violent blowing of the “Manipur’s” whistle, however, immediately arrested our attention & the cause of the commotion was at once apparent. The ship to anchor ahead of us, the “Baron Balfour” had dragged her moorings & evidently her Watch had not noticed it. The morsing & whistling was for her benefit as she was making for the “Manipur” at a good pace. The Pilot at once ordered our boat to proceed to the “Baron” all speed (her Pilot was also on shore at the Telegraph Station) & nobly did the natives bend to their work, shouting & urging each other on making their heavy craft skim along. As we neared the steamer, who had just then become alive to their danger, our Pilot hailed her to go ahead in a certain direction. They had just got her engines moving & were able to arrest her drifting when only about 200 yards off the “Manipur”. The Pilot clambered on board up a rope, without waiting for a ladder & took her further away to a secure anchorage returning later when the “Baron’s” Pilot got back from the shore. Query – Rules & regulations respecting Pilots not to leave the ship! What of ‘em? The sea had got very choppy. I was left in the boat which slew round in the tide race right under the “Baron Balfour’s” stern, far too close to her propellers for my liking, but clearing everything fortunately we were down on the “Manipur’s” bows in no time, hailed her for a rope as we swung by & I was up the ladder in a trice, rather glad to be there I don’t mind admitting as it was not too pleasant, it being dead dark, the sea has got up suddenly, & the tremendous pace we were rushing along bumping the steamers side all the time, made it very difficult to hold the boat when the rope was thrown.Thursday, 8th October, 1914.Day No. 75.~ Still to an anchor off Diamond Harbour! Preparations were being made for departure when the engine room crew came to interview the Captain. More trouble!! They pointed out (evidently after considering amongst themselves after last night’s agreement & repenting) that 11 of the firemen had never been to sea before, and so far as the shortage of hands went they were willing to put up with that as far as Colombo, but they now felt that with such a large percentage of novices, “raw bones”, they could not possibly do the work & refused to go to sea. (Their Shipping Broker had only left the ship just before, of which they were aware – taking full advantage of it). It was felt, after a consultation, that they had right on their side & the Anchor, which was partially up, was let go again & the Captain had perforce to journey to Calcutta once more meantime sending most emphatic wires (which I wrote out) to all & sundry in Calcutta to bring an end to such a position by taking every step possible, pending his arrival, to obtain the complement. Suffice to say that night-time Brought him back, & his men too, thus completing the crew after 3 days colossal efforts. (It is worth mentioning that this crew question has been very acute during the past few weeks in Calcutta & is quite an exceptional state of things. There have been a large number of ships leaving Bombay for Army transport work, needing more men than Bombay could well supply; also the several German prizes, both at Calcutta & Colombo, have had to be manned & numerous crews have been requisitioned for all these at Calcutta, being sent by train to Bombay & Colombo. Again, it is the time of the year when many men miss a trip & go to their homes up country to work on their own little piece of land, the combined circumstances producing a shortage; but above all there is undoubtedly in the native mind a nervousness to sail while the war is on which feeling has been intensified by the exploits of the little German cruiser “Emden” – sinking the merchantmen – in the Bay of Bengal & off Ceylon. In fact, when this news was first received in Calcutta, symptoms of panic occurred in the native bazaars, many natives actually sending their wives & children out of the City believing that the “Emden” was coming up to bombard Calcutta (!) & fearing that the natives might get out of hand in their fright, & to allay their fears, the Authorities had to take immediate action in the Wards of the City affected to make it known that there was no reason whatever for alarm). Of course the excuse for going ashore in the late afternoon to see if there were any more telegrams could not be resisted – so the Pilot & myself had another jaunt this time, intending to go off the beaten track in the jungle a bit and take the Captain’s gun which had kept the passengers employed all the morning- target practice & pegging away at a few bromlie- kites perched on the rigging & cross-trees. At the last moment we left the gun behind. We made a new landing place on this occasion & had a walk through the finest of jungle lanes disturbing many birds, all sorts & sizes. The large carrion variety one took a delight in disturbing – Cockney instinct, where’s a brick! We went on to the House of the Customs Officer, whom we had met shortly after landing, & obtained the day’s Newspapers – very eagerly sought after by all aboard there stirring times – spent 20 minutes at a riverside watching 2 soldiers (English) from the Fort fishing, & catching them too, & then thought it about time to attend to the legitimate business for which we came ashore i.e. the Telegrams. Then, by another way back to the boat, down a fine palm –lined lane with wonderful undergrowth; past native houses in a most picturesque setting; past a wealth of cactus plants with their prickles galore, as I had ample opportunity of testifying, three parts falling into one in my endeavours to capture a fine dragon fly; a scramble down the river front to the edge of the mud, carried aboard the native craft once again & off we went to the steamer.Friday, 9th October, 1914.Day No. 76~ Whilst finishing breakfast throb, throb, throb went the engines – we were moving. Coming on deck, the Steamer was turning round & proceeding slowly; by 9/15 all was clear, and then, “full speed ahead”. We were off, at last! After 45 days stay. A good run down the River widening now all the time to the Mouth; past Sangor Island with its forests, swamps, and impenetrable jungle abounding with wild animals, Tigers particularly. Rhinoceros, Buffaloes & Deer are also found, there are Snakes of all sorts, and Crocodiles infest the rivers & creeks, and the same are found in all the Sunderbund district forming the Delta of the Ganges. (I had the pleasure of meeting a gentleman in Calcutta who had had several hunting “outs” at Sangor, twice meeting with success with Tigers). Passing the three Light Vessels, Upper Gasper, Lower Gaspar & Eastern Channel, brought us at 6 o’clock to the Pilot Station, where we stopped to discharge the Pilot. He, my shore companion for the last 3 days came to wish me Bon Voyage! before he went over the side with his servant & his luggage to the Punt which had now come alongside us. The engines were started again, the ship was turned round to her course and there, what I was much amused to hear the Chief Officer once say “that there was no finer sight in Calcutta”, was the Pilot Boat astern of us, and we, Homeward-Bound!! I caught the Chief’s eye a few minutes afterwards, winked at him & pointed to the boat astern – he knew to what I was referring, we both laughed & both with the one impulse at the same moment shook hands with ourselves. On return to deck after dinner it was quite dark and it was a grand inspiring feeling to feel afloat again and to stand there contemplating the immensities and to hear the lascar up in the Crow’s nest, in reply to the ship’s bell, call out slowly and musically “Khub dekta hai” and then, after a pause, while he looks around at the lights “Batti acha Sahib” We sailed without masthead lights, the sidelights dimmed so as to reduce the range of their visibility and all Cabin & saloon lights shielded, in order not to show outside the ship, and so we proceeded hoping that we should not meet that notorious little German Cruiser, the Emden”.Saturday, 10th October, 1914Sunday, 11th - “ -Monday, 12th - “ -Days No 77, 78 & 79~ Taking it altogether we made very fair weather down the Bay of Bengal, occasionally meeting passing rain showers. A good swell was on, most likely the aftermath of a cyclone which had passed across the Bay a few days previously. It was placid sailing and no excitement if one exempts a fracas which occurred on Monday on the forward deck, and for which I had a front seat in the stalls. Some of the natives (passenger crew) had quarrelled with the 2 Arab Seaman, nobody taking much notice of it, when as if by magic, the deck became a seething shouting mass. The air was filled with everything throwable (they don’t fight with fists) cudgels were used, the English Officers came jumping off the Bridge, the Deck, out of their Rooms &c, and springing amongst the mob disarmed them. Donnybrook fair!! As poor Mr. Arab was seized he received a killing blow, almost, on his head, a vile blow from behind, & as he was found to have a knife in his hand he was at once placed under arrest & fastened with irons on the saloon deck, as much for his own protection as anything else I think. He immediately had slight concussion of the brain so he became an easy subject for the Doctor to bandage.Tuesday, 13th October, 1914.Day No. 80~ My usual first-thing-in-the-morning look out of the Port showed the land – Ceylon once again; at the distance the separate mountains appeared to rest on the sea like so many islands. We were about abreast of Batticaloa and, as the morning advanced we hauled in to the land and ran along the coast. The atmosphere was so very clear that, on this occasion, the internal mountain range was visible, as was also, of course the single peaks and that remarkable mountain “Westminster Abbey”, mentioned in my notes of 21st August. Both the Little Basses Reef & Great Basses Reef – two important points which aid navigation hereabouts – were passed in the afternoon and then we came closer to the shore still. It was truly delightful sailing on such a delightful day to sit in the breeze and enjoy the land view. A wealth of palm trees are everywhere along the coast line and all about seems densely clothed with tropical forest; as you look green, green, green, is the predominant colour relieved now & again by an occasional yellow patch of sandy shore, & where there is a little rock or reef the surf breaks into grand spray – white against the blue waters. What a land of colourings is here & again one envies the talent of those who are able to sketch and to use their brush to picture such charming scenes. Another lighthouse was passed soon after 6 o’c’ – Hambantota; and during the next watch, we having altered our course in keeping with the curve of the Island, we got the breeze from off shore carrying with it the sweetest of smells, truly a scented wind. “Ceylon’s spicy breezes”. Most fragrant. I looked out at midnight for as we were passing Point de Galle we signalled ourselves. A white flare throwing up white stars was held up on the forecastle head & at the same time a blue flare throwing up blue stars was shown from the Bridge – these form the Brocklebank night signal. The news of our passing would be sent through to Colombo so that our time of arrival there would be known, and all be ready for us; & I wondered at the time whether word would be sent through to England when you would know that we had turned the corner of Ceylon.